The Killer in Me
by lizardmm
Summary: What would have happened if the Initiative had put a chip in FAITH and not SPIKE? Takes place months after Season 4's "Who Are You?"
1. Chapter 1

What would have happened if the Initiative had put a chip in FAITH and not SPIKE? Kind of a mash-up of things from seasons 4 through 7.

Title: _The Killer in Me_ 2.0

_Prologue: Welcome (back) to Sunnydale._

The brunette normally didn't run from a fight. She was more of a jump into the burning fire kind of girl. But there were five of them and only one of her. Plus she really wasn't in the mood to kill any more humans. She felt her speed kick in and every individual muscle in her body working itself to inhuman-like capabilities.

Her surrounding environment flew by as a blur, just colors now, greens and blues and blacks. Branches scratched at the sides of her face and leaves reached out to tangle in her long brown locks, but she didn't slow her sprint or shorten her stride, dodging trees and hearing the snapping of twigs beneath her feet. There was no way they were going to catch her. She wasn't going to be caught again.

Distortion crackled through the walkie-talkie and then Riley heard the order. "Finn. We've got a potential hostile coming your way. She outran us. She looks human, but her speed and endurance suggest something else. Bring her in."

Riley deftly assembled the gun and its scope and took aim at the female form running unaware through the forest. He gently squeezed the trigger and smiled smugly as the tranquilizer found its target. He peered through the scope, watching the girl as she stumbled briefly before succumbing to the drug, her body crashing to the ground.

The well-disciplined soldier immediately dialed up the other squadron leader. "Potential hostile is tagged," he called through the hand-held radio. "The tranquilizer I hit it with has a honing device and will give you the coordinates of the body."

Riley glanced once more through the scope of his gun at the unmoving female form. _"Damn, I'm good,"_ he boasted to himself.

The brunette woke up groggily to find that her carefully planned ensemble had been replaced with a sterile looking jumper. Her head throbbed lightly as though she'd been drinking her signature Jack and diet the night before.

She winced, sitting up from the prison-like cot that adorned her cell. The room's harsh overhead light and equally blinding whisper white walls disorientated her even further. Her room was actually only three blindingly white walls. The fourth, an unsettling mirrored wall that seemed to have no door.

"Where the hell am I?" she growled out loud. She combed her fingers nervously through her hair, only stopping when she felt it. A bald spot.

The girl jumped to her feet. "What the fuck?" she screamed. Her fingers frantically felt around the area, which felt like it had been recently shaved. A neat line of fresh stitches formed a perimeter around the bare area.

"Oh hell no, they didn't," she steamed, feeling a bit like Samson. She paused in her anger however to realize she didn't know who _they _were.

"Welcome back to Sunnydale," she muttered to herself.

Riley stared at the girl through the one-way mirror as she discovered her new haircut. He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and his face looked troubled and deep in thought.

"_She's back? What is she doing back?"_ he vented to himself. He hadn't recognized her earlier through the gun scope, but now from this proximity there was no doubting who she was. Riley turned when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man," the deep voice greeted his friend. "What's the situation with this one? She looks human?"

"Never judge a book by its cover, Gates," Riley mumbled, turning back to glare at the girl.

Flanked by a handful of scientists, Dr. Maggie Walsh walked down a long corridor towards the two soldiers.

"Riley. Forrest." She nodded toward the caged girl. "What kind of a demon are we dealing with here?" The scientists looked momentarily flustered as they rustled through the pages attached to their clipboards.

Riley continued staring darkly at the brunette who had now begun to pace frantically back and forth within her confined space, periodically touching the small bald square on her head. "You won't find her in your files," he informed them coldly. "Her name is Faith."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The blonde awoke abruptly, sitting straight up in her bed. She allowed her eyes to slowly register their surroundings, adjusting to the darkness around her. Her best friend slept soundly, lightly snoring, in the adjacent twin bed in their UC-Sunnydale dorm room.

The California girl sighed and tightened the ponytail that had loosened itself in her fitful sleep. Ever since she had turned sixteen, sleeping was always complicated, especially when it came with cryptic dreams. _"Well at least this time I wasn't dancing with a pineapple," _she silently considered.

Tonight she had dreamt that she was being hunted like a wild animal. She remembered the smell of fir trees and the night air, the sound of rustling fallen leaves that crunched under her feet as she ran away. She felt like she had been running for her life in the dream, but from what or from whom, she did not know.

The young woman had awoken only when she felt a burning sting in her shoulder as though a giant insect had bitten her. She gingerly rubbed the spot where she remembered the pain and it felt faintly sore, like a ghost or an echo of an injury.

Buffy threw her covers off her legs and hopped out of bed. There was usually no way to get back to sleep after waking up from a Slayer dream. The blonde had learned to make good use of her time rather than flopping around in bed, unsuccessfully trying to go back to sleep. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and silently let herself out of her dorm room and into the cold, empty hallway of Stevenson Hall.

Faith woke up groggy, gingerly sitting up from her cot. She grimaced and rubbed her forearms, coaxing feeling back into her pale limbs. Track marks tattooed her thin, toned arms giving her the look of an intravenous drug addict. Over the past few days – although the brunette had lost track of time since she was perpetually in this windowless facility – scientists and soldiers had flooded in and out of her room. Most of the time it was only to deliver tasteless, colorless food that after a few days of captivity she finally began choking down. It almost made the food served in prison seem gourmet. Almost.

But more often, those scientists and soldiers invaded her small cell to lead her to adjacent rooms where emotionless men and women in long white lab coats administered a variety of tests. The dark slayer didn't know what they were looking for, didn't know what they were testing for, but she realized after some time of being in captivity that no one was willing to let her know what was going on.

What she _did _know was that she wasn't the only inmate in this mysterious facility. Every so often they would bring her into a room where various demons were restrained, strapped to chairs resembling those at a dentist office. Sometimes she would mentally tick off the name of the demon and the most efficient way to dismember or kill the monster, impressed that her original Watcher's teachings had managed to stick with her after all these years. The stoical white coats would then perform the same test on the slayer as on the demons, observing and silently recording on their clipboards.

At first she had tried to break loose, to somehow free herself when one or two inept guards came to transport her from one room to the next. She learned the hard way, however, that these so-called "inept" soldiers had technology on their side in the form of electrical prods that would probably take out an elephant with one jolt.

She looked up from her arms when she heard the buzzing that indicated someone was entering her cell. Her body instantly went rigid, like a feral animal expecting punishment.

A lone uniformed soldier entered the room, clenching his tazer like a security blanket. "Get up, you," he gruffly commanded.

Faith looked sideways at the man and gave him a manic leer. "That's no way to sweet talk a girl, Soldier," she chided. "Didn't your mama teach you better manners?" She eyeballed the open exit subtly, but remained seated. _"If only these fuckin' Tools didn't carry so much hardware," _she somberly lamented.

"I _said_, get up," he growled, stalking closer to the seated inmate.

The rogue slayer smiled sweetly at the looming man. "But you never said 'please'."

The soldier swung down hard, using the tazer like a club. Anticipating the move, Faith caught the weapon in her hand, mid-air, the smile on her face growing wider. She shoved upwards, throwing the man backwards, but he remained on his feet. The lithe woman quickly hopped up from her seated position and rushed the slightly taken-aback man.

She launched her clenched fist through the air, connecting with the guard's nose. Normally the brunette reveled in the feeling of breaking bones, but instead of the energized hum that normally coursed through her body at impact, she felt an agonizing pain spear her frontal lobe instead.

Faith screamed shrilly from the biting pain, her hands instantly flying up and clenching against her forehead. It felt like her brain was on fire. The lone soldier cowered on the ground, hollering in his own anguish, blood rushing from his broken nose. Their joint chaos brought the immediate attention of two uniformed soldiers into the room. One of the men flew to the aid of his fallen comrade, stooping down to assess the damage. The other guard, Forrest Gates, knocked the dangerous woman to her knees, her screaming fading to a moan as the residual ache throbbed through her cranium.

"Get Blake out of here," he ordered sternly to the other soldier. "And have a medic look at that nose."

The first soldier helped his bloodied brother-in-arms to his feet and escorted him out of the Boston woman's cell, leaving Forrest behind.

"Hope you like your new leash," he growled darkly at the stunned woman. "It's perfect for an animal like you. If it were up to me," he continued, each word dripping with venomous poison, "I'd have that little blonde locked up in here too."

He placed his tazer against the younger slayer's shoulder blade and jerked the trigger. The brunette's body went rigid for a moment and then began to twitch before she completely collapsed to the ground. Without another word, Forrest turned his back on the fallen woman and exited her cell.

Faith remained huddled on the ground, her eyes screwed shut from the pain.

"Professor Walsh, I still don't understand why she's here," Riley fumed in the government scientist's underground office.

"Relax, Soldier. We've been over this before," she reminded him sternly. She stood up from behind her desk and walked around towards the seated man. "Now I know that you and that girl Buffy Summers are in some kind of a _relationship_, so we would never do these kinds of tests on _her_," she assured him. "But think of this as a rare opportunity for the government, Riley…for _Science_, to really understand the capabilities and genetic make-up of a Slayer."

"But…" Riley began to protest.

"Riley, just _think _of the possibilities," Dr. Walsh continued, this time the excitement undeniable in her voice. She sat down on the edge of her desk. "If we can pinpoint what makes _this _girl different – what makes her so unique…oh, Riley…there are _so _many possibilities."

The marine crossed his arms across his broad chest, unconvinced by his supervisor's words. "I keep telling you…she's dangerous."

Maggie Walsh laughed, almost manically. "Look around this place, Finn. We're _surrounded _by dangerous monsters everyday."

Riley's boyish features scrunched into a troubled frown. "You've never met a monster like her, though."

Buffy knew she was dreaming, but she couldn't seem to wake herself up. She found herself in a blindingly white room with no windows, no doors, no entrances, no exits, and no furniture. Only _her._

The blonde folded her arms across her chest, frowning deeply. "What is this?" she asked curtly. "Got bored in prison and decided to come bother me?"

The elder woman towered above the huddled form of the rogue slayer. Faith's face was hidden by her hair. Her normally flawless, silky tresses were wild with tangles, giving the younger woman an almost primal look.

Buffy continued to stand over the other woman and she began to pace back and forth, casting a glance now and then at the form of the younger slayer. Faith sat motionless, hugging her knees to her chest. Buffy couldn't help but observe that the Boston girl's normally toned and athletic arms looked sinewy and tired, dark purple and violently yellow bruises marring the skin.

"Please, B," Faith rasped, still not looking up at the elder slayer.

But the blonde could only feel the hatred. Could only feel the betrayal. She felt no pity, felt no remorse for this broken figure before her.

Faith continued to hide her features behind her unkempt hair. She rocked back and forth on the ground, continuing to hug herself. "I need you, Buffy." The words came out rough and thick as though she hadn't used her vocal chords in a while.

She looked up finally, tilting her face toward the elder girl, like Buffy was the sun and the Boston girl craved the warmth.

The Californian stopped pacing and finally gazed down at the raven-haired woman's face.

And then she started to scream.

"Buffy!" a voice yelled in the distance. It sounded like she was underwater.

"Buffy! Wake up!" This time, the words were clearer.

The blonde woman jumped slightly in her bed, being suddenly awoken by the insistent shaking of her roommate.

"What? I – ah – what happened?" sputtered the slayer, trying to quickly take stock of her surroundings. She found herself in her twin bed in the dorm room she shared with Willow. Her skin was hot and sweaty and her cotton bed sheets were tangled around her restless limbs, evidence of her restless slumber.

"You were having a nightmare, I think," the redheaded witch informed her. Willow's eyes were full of concern for her friend.

The blonde sat up in bed and looked at the Wicca who stood near her. "How –," Buffy started.

"You were kind of thrashing around and whimpering," Willow interrupted, answering the slayer's unarticulated question. She paused and looked her friend over. "Are you okay, Buff?" she implored.

Buffy closed her eyes at the intensity of emotions that rushed through her body. It had been another Slayer dream. She couldn't remember the last time she had experienced so many in such a short span of time.

Everything had been so vivid. So…disturbing. She couldn't erase the memory of Faith's face from her mind. Her eye sockets – where once had been gorgeous pools of liquid chocolate – were now empty holes of darkness. And from those eye sockets poured dark crimson blood that flowed down her delicate features. She had immediately screamed at the sight. It was the most horrifying image Buffy had ever seen.

The blonde shook her head and looked back up at her best friend. Something was definitely wrong.

"I need to talk to Giles," she whispered.

"And you're sure these are _Slayer _dreams and not just manifestations of your imagination, or conscience, or perhaps the result of bad pizza?" Giles asked gently. The blonde's Watcher carefully poured the girl a cup of tea as they sat in his living room.

Buffy blew on the hot liquid and took a tentative sip. "It was definitely a Slayer dream, Giles. Besides, it's not like Faith makes regular appearances in my dreams. I haven't…we haven't…" she fumbled. "Not since Graduation."

The English man stood up and walked into his small kitchen. "I see. And during that time, Faith was rendered unconscious and in the hospital. And you think that your connection has been reopened because she's in another coma?"

Buffy set the teacup back down on its saucer on the coffee table and sighed. "Giles, I don't know. But what I _do _know is that this can't be a coincidence. Something's wrong or it's about to become wrong."

Giles pushed his glasses up his nose. "You haven't heard from her since the body-switching incident?"

Buffy shook her head. "No. I mean, not since I went to LA and she turned herself in to the police." The blonde paused and looked into the depths of her teacup. "Giles," she started, her voice small, "do you think maybe something's happened to her in prison? Like…she got shivved or something?"

Giles gave his Slayer a paternal smile. Buffy always had a way with words. "I'm sure Angel would have at least phoned meif something were the matter with Faith," he assured the small woman. "And as I recall, he is her connection to the outside world – if something were to happen to her in prison, he would be the first to know."

"But what if something _did _happen and Angel kept it from us?" Buffy continued to worry.

Giles removed his glasses from his face and began to clean the lenses with his shirttails. "I'll give the LA office a call to find out if they have any information," the Englishman promised. "But until then, Buffy, I would urge you to pay attention to these Slayer dreams – even if something seems insignificant, I want you to record it. Keep a journal or a pad of paper by your bed at night. That way if you wake up from another prophetic dream, you can automatically record that information in your notebook."

Buffy nodded once and sighed. "I _do _so love Slayer homework. It makes my college homework seem somehow, less painful." She stood up from the well-worn couch and stretched her slender legs. "I guess I'll go do a quick patrol before bed then." She grabbed her jacket from the buffet. "You'll let me know when you talk to Angel?"

Her Watcher gave her a solemn nod. "Of course, Buffy. I'll ring him right away. And do be careful tonight. I don't want this distraction to cause you to be injured."

The golden-haired slayer scrunched her face up. "I'll give Riley a call, see if he'll patrol with me. Safe as houses." With that, she exited the Englishman's flat, the door clicking closed behind her.

Giles stared after his Slayer thoughtfully. He was jolted from his ponderings by the shrill ringing of his house phone. The Watcher pushed aside his silent questions and answered the insistent phone.

"Rupert," he heard the voice say. "It's Angel. I'm calling about Faith…she's missing."

Faith wiped at her bloody mouth with the back of her hand. She smiled bitterly when she saw her own blood there.

"That the best you got, Sunshine?" she taunted. "My alcoholic whore of a mother hit me harder than that."

The former convict returned to her feet and spit the blood from her mouth. Without another word, she rushed at full speed toward the demon, and knocked the formidable creature onto its back. Faith leapt on the hulking beast, taking full advantage of its vulnerable position. She straddled the monster's scaly torso and thrust her fist downwards, time and again, in the space where there should have been a face.

A handful of white coats huddled near the fray, marking down their observations on the clipboards that seemed permanently attached to their hands. A few soldiers stood at attention, tazers in hand, ready to protect the scientists if either of the test subjects turned against them. Although her captors had recently put her through a series of physical tests, this was the first time they had put her in a room with an unrestrained demon. Her only instructions were to live. And this was one test that Faith was determined to pass.

The former convict unleashed her rage on the demon. Ever since she had been taken captive, she thought of nothing but lashing out at those who held her prisoner. Sure, she'd been in prison before, but that was voluntary. That was for her redemption. This time around, the purpose of her imprisonment had remained a mystery to her.

Although she was consumed with the idea of escape and revenge, every time she struck out against one of her human enemies, she was momentarily blinded by a pain like nothing she had ever experienced before. It started in the front part of her brain and forced its way through her entire body until she finally surrendered to its will. At first she had been hesitant to fight against the demon when the scientists had unchained both their captives in the large sterile room. But after landing a tentative punch to the creature's stomach and finding herself unpunished by the devastating pain, she released weeks of unexpressed and contained malice.

The dark slayer grabbed onto the monster's head and ripped it clear from its neck. She heaved it across the room, watching it bounce briefly before coming to a satisfying rest on its side. Dark red spurted from the severed arteries in the remaining body, quickly pooling in a large puddle around the demon's unmoving form. Faith howled when she looked down to see the creature's crimson blood bathing her arms and hands; her sun-starved flesh now painted in red. The memory of killing Alan Finch assaulted her mind, the images fresh and vivid as though the crime had occurred only days ago, not years.

The stake had felt so comfortable in her hands. Weapons always found a happy home in her destructive, capable hands. Her body felt juiced from having spent so much time recently with her sister-Slayer. Hell, Buffy had even ditched class to hang out with her. True it was all under the guise of dusting vampires, but Faith would take any quality time she could get with the hot little blonde. The Boston girl had been acting on impulse, letting her instincts guide her to the kill. The man had rushed out of the dark alley unexpectedly; Buffy had thrown him toward her in the heat of a back alley scuffle and the rogue slayer had done what her body was Fated for. Death. To Kill. She had done her Duty; but she hadn't meant to…not a human. She thought he was just another vampire.

One of the white coats looked annoyed by her unexpected reaction. "For Gods sake," he complained, glaring at one of the observing soldiers. "Someone get her under control."

Faith felt the painful electrical jolt invade her body and she surrendered to unconsciousness yet again.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, Rupert," the soul-ed vampire apologized calmly. "They released her from prison without telling me. Good behavior or something. Probably overcrowding."

"And so they felt it prudent to release a murderer?" the Watcher challenged.

There was silence at the other end of the phone and Giles grimaced at his mistake.

"I'm sorry for my outburst, Angel," he apologized. "I know you believe she's reformed."

"It's not just a belief, Rupert," the ancient vampire insisted. "I know it to be true. She's no longer that scared, angry girl who was out for revenge when she woke up from her coma." Angel paused. "Can you say the same for Buffy?"

This time it was Giles' turn to remain silent.

"I'm only calling because I think Faith might come back to Sunnydale and try to make amends," Angel told the man. "I'll get there as soon as I wrap up this case we're working on."

"Angel, there's no need for you to travel all the way here," the Englishman insisted tensely. "We can certainly handle Faith if she has indeed come back."

A low growl emitted from the receiver. "I'm not worried about Faith doing anything. I'm more concerned about what _your _Slayer will do to Faith."

"Stop it, Riley. I'm tired," the blonde complained, pushing the suffocating man away from her in bed. "I haven't been sleeping well lately. I keep having these Slayer dreams…"

After a short and uneventful patrol, the two demon-fighters had returned to Riley's room at the fraternity house.

The marine groaned and rolled on his back. "Well that's a new excuse for you. Normally you're just not 'in the mood' or it's bad timing because it's the end of the world."

Buffy propped herself up on one elbow and glared at her boyfriend. "Don't be a pig. I'm serious. I keep having these really…disturbing dreams."

He sighed deeply and continued to stare at the ceiling. "Alright. I'll bite. What's up with the dreams?"

The blonde chewed on her bottom lip, unsure if she was ready to say _her _name around _him._ They had never really talked about what had happened. Not to her complete satisfaction, at least.

Buffy swallowed hard, summoning her courage. "It's Faith…" she whispered, her voice low.

The Iowa man sat up suddenly in bed. "What?" he asked, the panic thick in his startled voice.

Buffy sighed and frowned guiltily. "I'm sorry. I know you probably don't need to be hearing all of this…not after…well…not after what happened."

Riley coughed anxiously, clearing his throat. "No, uh, it's fine, Buffy. Really. You know you can tell me anything," he coaxed, finally looking at his girlfriend's face. The soldier flashed the blonde a forced grin.

Buffy looked haltingly at the man beside her, the decision to say something weighing heavily on her mind. "I think she might be in trouble. Or hurt. Or both," she admitted finally.

Riley furrowed his eyebrows together. "And what makes you think that?" he asked. He suddenly worried just how much his girlfriend knew about the dark slayer's current situation.

"Because she keeps asking for my help," the slayer stated. "In these dreams, I mean. And her face. It's…she's…" the blonde struggled to find the words. She closed her eyes, a mix of frustration and regret for her sister-Slayer.

The disciplined soldier wrapped his thick arms around his slender girlfriend's body and pulled her close. "Try to get some sleep, okay?" he lightly insisted, cutting off any further conversation that night. "We can talk more in the morning," he promised.

"God damn it. If you'd just hold still, it wouldn't hurt so much," the angry man's voice thundered. He tapped at the glass vial in his hand and frowned. The female hostile had tainted the specimen again.

The man in the white coat nodded towards the two soldiers who stood in the room with him. "Restrain her until I get what I want," he spit.

The uniformed marines grabbed the dangerous woman by either arm. She tensed her sinewy biceps and tried to shake the men's grip on her, but found herself too weak to resist.

"Hold her still, soldiers," the scientist insisted as he lowered yet another needle closer to her skin. The tip pierced the surface and he pulled back on the syringe, taking yet another vial of the slayer's blood. She had lost count of how many containers they had already filled with her life-force. The dark woman had always thought that one day she would die from blood-loss, but certainly not in this manner.

A sarcastic and bitter retort fluttered to her lips, but Faith remained silent, no longer taking any kind of pleasure from verbally assaulting these men. All she wanted to do was break necks and smash heads together.

"_I'll make you pay. I'll make you all pay," _she chanted inside her head as she stared daggers at the three men in the room. It was her silent mantra – a promise she intended to keep – the only thing felt was worth living for anymore. The only reason to hold it together any longer.

_Vengeance. _

Buffy awoke to muffled voices in the second-floor hallway of Riley's fraternity house.

"I'm telling you, Gates. I just don't like her being down there. We should do something…"

Buffy rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows, allowing her eyes to adjust to the early morning light streaming through Riley's open bedroom window.

"Like what, man?" she heard Forrest Gates' deep, rumbling voice. "You wanna go against direct orders? You know that project is a priority. You mess with the girl and –,"

"She's not just some _girl_, why can't any of you understand that?" Riley's voice was filled with annoyance. "Buffy's gonna find out; she's been having dreams about all the tests –,"

The blonde sat up suddenly in bed, her body going rigid. _It couldn't be…_

Forrest snorted in amusement, interrupting his friend. "And what's your little blonde powder-puff gonna do about it?" he challenged. "That girl's bad news, Finn. She should be locked up and down there with the other one."

A bitter feminine voice startled both the men. "You knew where she was, and you kept it from me…even after I confided in you about my dreams."

Riley spun on his heels towards the sound of the voice. "Buffy!" His eyes were wide in shock.

The girl fumbled angrily with the buttons of Riley's oversized dress shirt as she wrapped the material around her slender torso. "I can't believe you would…" she mumbled, finally buttoning a few of the fastens. The blonde pushed past the two men and stormed down the staircase.

"Buffy, wait!" her boyfriend pleaded as the slayer clomped down the wooden stairs, her leather boots echoing her anger.

Riley rushed down the staircase and caught up with his partner just as she reached for the front door. The soldier grabbed onto her elbow, hoping to pause her hasty exit. "C'mon, Buffy. Let's just talk about this," he insisted, his voice desperate.

Buffy spun around quickly to face the man.

"Talk to _this_," she growled, her tiny fist connecting with his face.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Break Out

"…and then I punched him in the face."

Xander and Willow simultaneously gasped at the slayer's words. "You did _what_?" they sputtered together.

The blonde shrugged as if she punched boyfriends in the face everyday. "What did you expect?" she breezed. "What would _you _do if your partner kept something important from you?"

Willow smirked at her friend from across the cafeteria table. "Well, I doubt I'd _punch _Tara."

Buffy smiled despite the difficult decision she faced. She fiddled nervously with the soda can between her hands. Being a Slayer certainly gave her a unique perspective when dealing with relationship problems.

"But why is she even back, Buffy?" Xander questioned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, courtesy of Willow's university meal plan. "I mean, isn't she supposed to be in prison?"

The Chosen One shook her head. "I don't know. I talked to Giles when I first started having those Slayer dreams, and he said he'd contact Angel and find out if he knows anything more. I haven't told Giles yet what I found out from eavesdropping on Riley."

"Seems to me the Initiative's just as good of a place for her," the redhead grumbled, stabbing at the cooked carrots on her plate. "Maybe even better than prison."

"You guys don't understand," the blonde slayer insisted emphatically. Her thin arms shook a little with emotion, and she threatened to spill her soda on those in the immediate vicinity. "They're doing things to her down there." She dropped her voice to a hushed tone. "Like tests or something; I don't know," she sighed, frustrated. "The dreams are so cryptic. But what I _do _know is that she's in a lot of pain, and she needs our help."

Her two best friends looked unimpressed as they continued to eat their lunches.

"The Initiative is bad news," Buffy added, trying again. "And why are they doing tests on a Slayer, anyway? That can't be good news for anyone involved, especially me."

That statement seemed to strike a nerve. Xander and Willow exchanged looks.

"I can't do it without you guys," Buffy breathed. "Wills with your computer hacking, and Xander with all those conveniently helpful army skills…."

"Okay," Xander finally caved, dropping his fork on the plate. "Count us in. But we're only helping because of you, Buff," he clarified, wagging his finger at his blonde friend. "It's probably not a good idea if the Initiative knows what makes a Slayer tick, even if it's only at the expense of Faith."

Buffy smiled gratefully at her two best friends.

"So what's the plan?" Willow asked, resigned to help her friend as well. "You're not just going to waltz into a super-secret underground military facility and ask them nicely to release a psycho murderer."

Buffy slightly winced at the redhead's words, although she knew them to be true.

"What about Riley? I'm sure he could get us down there?" Xander offered.

"No." Buffy shook her head. "Riley is _not _to know about this," the blonde insisted vehemently.

Her two friends looked at her questioningly.

"Remember that whole punching him in the face?" Buffy asked, blushing slightly.

"Oh. Right." Willow gave the slayer a small, empathetic smile. She touched her friend's arm lightly. "I'm sure he'll get over it, Buff. I mean, he _did _keep what's going on down there a secret from you."

Buffy frowned. "I don't know if I want him to get over it," she mumbled softly.

Willow looked momentarily horrified. "What?" she exclaimed. "You guys are going to break up? Over _Faith?_"

The blonde slayer worried her bottom lip. "It's not just that, Wills. He and I…" she struggled to find the right words. "I don't know," she finally sighed. "I can't really think about all that right now."

Buffy shook her head and replaced her frustrated frown with a more determined look. "Let's get Faith back first, and then I can worry about what to do with Riley."

The small slayer silently shimmied down the long nylon line. She smiled despite the precarious situation. Xander had certainly come through with the military gadgets again. She marveled at how one disastrous Halloween night years ago had turned her friend into an expert on all things Army related. Xander had brought so many gadgets over to her dorm room earlier that day, it was like military Christmas…or Hanukah, as Willow would tactfully correct her.

Buffy unfastened the harness that had allowed her to slide down the elevator shaft undetected. She touched her hand lightly to her earpiece. "_Thank you, Xander," _she thought to herself, smiling again at her good fortune to have such devoted and resourceful friends.

"Alright, Wills," she murmured quietly into the communication device. "I'm in. I'll let you know when I find her."

"_Rodger that,"_ Willow chirped on the other end of the connection. Buffy stifled a laugh at her redheaded friend's choice of words.

Hacking into the mainframe and consulting the electrical wiring and plumbing mapping of the facility, Willow had pinpointed a probable location of the containment cells. Buffy carefully maneuvered her way through the underground facility, her senses on high alert for any pesky scientists or soldiers.

Turning another corner, she found herself in a long, well-lit corridor. On either side of her were glass-fronted rooms, each containing a different kind of demon. As she continued to creep cautiously down the hall, the creatures became alert of the slayer's presence and began to bang and beat against the solid walls of their captivity. She inwardly winced hoping no one from the Initiative would hear their angry response.

Passing a particularly disgruntled Polgara demon, the small slayer stalked down the hallway and peered into the next room, its long glass wall doing nothing to hide the contents of the small cell. What she saw stopped her suddenly in her search.

"Oh my God," Buffy whispered, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

Inside the barren room lay a slender woman strapped down to a clinical-looking bed. Her legs and arms had been fastened with severe metal and leather straps that bound her to the mattress. An IV in the corner of the room pumped a strange purple fluid into the inflated veins on the insides of her arms.

"Willow," she choked through her headset. "I found Faith. I need you to unlock her cell for me. It's unit S49."

"_I'm on it, Buffy,"_ the computer hacker stated. _"Just give me one more minute."_

The door buzzed suddenly and the glass slid away to afford the blonde entrance into the rogue slayer's cage. Buffy quickly entered the blindingly white room. The bound woman didn't turn her head to look at whomever had entered her room. She remained still, staring up at the blank white ceiling with equally blank eyes.

Buffy hovered close to the bed. She closed her eyes momentarily when the memory of the last time she had witnessed a bound and broken Faith in a similar setting flashed through her mind – when Buffy had stabbed the girl and put her in a coma.

"Faith," Buffy breathed as she unfastened the woman's restraints and haphazardly yanked the needles from her arms. "C'mon," she urged. "We need to get out of here."

The woman turned her head finally to see who was speaking to her. The look in her eyes indicated that she couldn't register who she was with or why she was there. Faith blinked once, as if allowing her eyes to adjust to the feminine form standing before her. She slowly sat up, still in a zombie state.

"That's right," Buffy coaxed, helping the young woman stand. "We're gonna get out of here." The golden-haired slayer held the fragile girl by the waist as they stumbled out of the cell. Buffy looked both ways down the long hallway; seeing no one, the two rushed toward the elevator exit.

A voice shattered the panicked silence of the underground facility. "I wondered how long it would be before Riley told you about her," came the stern female voice. "He was such a loyal soldier until he met you, Miss Summers."

Buffy turned to see Maggie Walsh standing only a few feet behind her. "Don't worry," the blonde snapped. "Riley's still your pet student or Marine or whatever," she quipped harshly, not letting go of the woman by her side. "He didn't betray the government. He betrayed _me_."

"You don't honestly think I'm going to allow you to leave with her, do you?" the scientist threatened. Four armed soldiers ran down the long corridor and quickly joined the military doctor. They trained their weapons on the two women.

"You don't honestly think you can stop me, do you, Professor Walsh?" Buffy retorted. She clamped her arm tighter around Faith's emaciated waist. She needed an exit fast and the dark slayer was in no condition to help Buffy fend off the soldiers.

"Think this through before you do anything you'll regret later, Miss Summers." The woman slowly edged her way closer to the two slayers, eyeballing them hesitantly as if advancing upon a wild animal. "It's for the good of the world!" Maggie Walsh blustered. "It's for the advancement of Science."

Buffy glared menacingly at the small woman, setting her jaw in an angry grimace. "There were Slayers before there was Science. And there will be Slayers when your Science has failed you." She shook her head angrily, clenching and unclenching her fists, trying to control her rage. "You have no idea the kind of Power you're messing with, Professor Walsh. And I'm going to make sure you never do."

An explosion rattled the underground facility, momentarily stunning and distracting Walsh and her commandos.

"Right on time, Xand," Buffy mumbled, her face scrunching into a grim smile.

The blonde slayer turned and scampered down the hallway towards the elevator as quickly as she could while still supporting Faith. Stopping when she reached her exit point, she frantically rummaged through the black duffle bag she had brought down with her. Finding what she needed, she paused to tightened her grip around the younger woman's waifish waist and carefully aimed the crossbow up the elevator shaft.

"Stop, Summers!" Maggie Walsh called as she and her Marines ran to catch the escaping slayers.

Buffy glanced up the elevator shaft and grimaced. "Why do I feel like Batman right now?"

The grappling hook shot out of her weapon and up through the tall elevator shaft. Hearing the satisfying clink, Buffy looked once more at the startled female scientist as she and her soldiers barreled down the hallway.

"By the way," the blonde slayer called as she and Faith zipped up in the air, "I'm dropping your class."

"Are you sure you want her here, staying at your mom's?" Willow asked. Her lips twisted into a frown as she thought more about what a bad idea it was.

"I know," Buffy nodded. "It sounds like I boarded the crazy bus."

"More like, you're _driving _the crazy bus and we're all taking a ride with you," Xander quipped.

"Listen," Buffy insisted. "It's the safest option for all of us. She can't very well stay with us at the dorms, Wills. And she's _not _staying in your parent's basement, Xander."

The blonde paused, thinking about their other options. "And Giles…I don't know if I trust him to not call the Council about all this. And I'm not just going to leave her by herself at a motel. Plus," she shrugged, "it'll give me the opportunity to hang out with my mom. If anything, the body-switch made me realize I should visit her more."

Willow gave her best friend a doubtful smile. "Okay, Buff," the witch conceded. "I don't like it, but I guess it's the best solution for now."

"I'll see you guys later, okay?" The slayer stifled the yawn that flew to her pursed lips. "It's been a long day, and I don't want to leave Faith by herself for too long up there." She nodded up towards the staircase.

Willow and Xander gave the blonde a tight hug goodbye.

"We'll be back bright and early tomorrow morning, okay?" the redhead assured her friend as she stepped back from the embrace.

"I'll bring donuts," Xander grinned.

Buffy waved goodbye to her friends and closed the front door when she saw Xander's car pull out of the driveway. She looked warily at the staircase and with a deep sigh, trudged up the stairs toward the upstairs bathroom where she had left the dark slayer. Luckily, her mother was gone for the weekend at an art conference, so she wouldn't have to explain why the girl who had once held her hostage was now living large in Buffy's bedroom. Not for a few days at least.

The blonde hesitantly knocked on the closed bathroom door. "Faith?" she called through the barrier. "It's me…Can I come in?"

Hearing no protests, the slayer tentatively opened the door. She was mildly surprised to find her sister-Slayer curled in a ball on the floor, naked on the bathmat.

"Faith?" she tried again, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. The Boston girl failed to look up as if the name no longer held any meaning for her.

Buffy reached out cautiously towards the woman's bare shoulder, her fingertips barely brushing against the naked skin of the former convict. The dangerous woman flinched when she felt the contact.

"It's okay. You're safe now," the blonde mumbled. Her mind raced. _"But am _I _safe with her here?" _she silently wondered.

The rogue slayer continued to ignore the blonde. Buffy coughed, clearing her throat. "I, um, thought you might like to take a hot shower. And then I could, um, tend to your wounds?"

Faith pulled herself into a tighter ball and clamped her eyes closed. The California girl sighed deeply when she realized what she had to do. Buffy awkwardly stepped over the huddled form on the floor and towards the bathtub. "Don't mind me," she mumbled under her breath.

Perching on the side of the tub, the elder slayer turned on the hot and cold water knobs to run the injured woman a warm bath. She had briefly considered helping Faith take a shower, but upon quickly realizing that she herself would also have to be naked, she quickly abandoned the thought and the unwelcomed images that popped into her mind.

"How about a bath, Faith?" Buffy tried, cheerfully. She splashed at the water with her fingertips to check the temperature. The sullen woman continued to remain uncommunicative on the bathmat.

"Just…get in, okay?" she sighed, her patience quickly faltering. As much as she had initially wanted to help the younger woman, she didn't know quite to what lengths she would go to achieve that. "You look like you haven't had a shower in…well…a while," the blonde-haired woman observed, although she might as well have been talking to herself. "And a clean slayer is a happy slayer," she added with false cheerfulness.

Faith grunted, but finally hefted her form from the floor; her legs wobbled shakily beneath her. She appeared unembarrassed by her naked state, but Buffy had always assumed the dangerous woman had no problems with nudity. As the dark-haired girl gingerly settled into the warm bath, an exhausted sigh fluttered past her dry, cracked lips.

Buffy frowned, noticing the brunette's mouth for the first time. The rogue slayer had always had such a beautiful, flawless mouth – a cocky smile never too far from her lips. But inactivity and neglect now left the dark slayer's lips split and rough looking.

The blonde took a moment to really look at her sister-Slayer. The younger woman's body was unusually thin. Faith had always been slender, but had possessed womanly curves that Buffy had secretly envied. Instead of the dangerous dips and curves of her former feminine body, however, the Boston girl's current form looked wasted and emaciated as if the soldiers had failed to feed her during captivity.

Scars, scratches, and angry bruises seemed to cover her naked body. Most disturbing were the track marks and exhausted veins that colored her thin arms, however. The blonde slayer could hardly imagine the abuse the former convict had faced underground at the Initiative. A regular human would no doubt have died under the strain.

The California girl found herself taken aback by the well of emotions that surged up her throat. She didn't know if she wanted to throw up or cry or punch her fist through the wall. Instead she settled for washing the Boston girl's matted hair.

Buffy poured the fragrant shampoo into the palm of her hand. Kneeling down on the bathmat next to the tub, she gently spread the thick liquid down the center of the brunette's scalp. The blonde was deliberate with the soft application, afraid that any kind of rough touch might send the former captive into a feral attack. With the tips of her fingers, she massaged the soap into the mass of brown waves.

The California girl looked around the bathroom briefly, looking disgruntled upon not immediately finding what she was looking for. "Stay here," she lightly commanded, standing up and stretching her sore legs. She quickly disappeared out of the bathroom and jogged down the carpeted stairs and into the kitchen to grab a plastic cup from one of the wooden cabinets.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered to herself. Part of her was elated that the brunette had not uttered any words since the blonde slayer had found her; the situation was embarrassing enough without any of Faith's characteristically crude or sexual comments. But the Boston girl's continued silence only added to the Californian's unease instead.

Buffy quickly climbed the stairs again and burst into the bathroom. Faith looked up quickly, a panicked look spread across her tortured features. Small waves crashed against the walls of the bathtub from the brunette's startled movement.

"I'm sorry," Buffy quickly mumbled, her eyes apologetic. "I didn't mean to scare you."

The blonde could see the muscles in the brunette's square jaw twitching as she clenched and unclenched her mouth. After a tense moment, the rogue slayer's body seemed to relax again, and she returned to staring straight ahead at the tiled wall of the shower.

Hesitantly, Buffy resumed her position on the bathmat. She scooped the plastic cup into the tub, capturing some water. "Lean your head back," she rasped. Faith obeyed the blonde's gentle command and closed her eyes as the warm water poured down her hair. Buffy tried to avert her eyes from the entrancing sight of water rivulets sliding down the brunette's goose-bumped skin.

Thankful for something to do with her hands, Buffy grabbed her conditioner bottle and poured a generous amount of the liquid onto the brunette's head. She raked her fingers through the numerous snarls that had matted themselves under the piles of thick hair.

"_Oh, God. Not this again," _she silently cursed, taking the plastic cup in her hands again. "Just one more time," she announced, more for her own benefit than Faith's. The huskiness of her own voice surprised her.

Faith obediently leaned her head back again and closed her eyes. Buffy bit her bottom lip as she carefully poured more water over the Boston girl's hair, rinsing away the last of the conditioner. Her eyes darted once again to the thin streams of water that flowed down the smooth neck and disappeared between the two pert fleshy globes.

Setting the cup down on the edge of the tub, Buffy swept her eyes over the woman's naked, wet form one last time. Faith didn't look at the blonde, however; she remained still, continuing to clamp onto her legs tightly, her eyes straight ahead and vacant.

"Tomorrow," Buffy mumbled to herself, surprised at how torturous this had been for her, "she'll be able to do this by herself."

Buffy cleared her throat. "All clean!" she announced cheerfully, her voice breaking a little like a prepubescent boy.

The dark slayer finally stopped her staring contest with the wall and glanced up at the small blonde. She awkwardly accepted Buffy's help as she stood up from the tub, stepping one foot onto the soft bathmat. Her other foot momentarily became tangled in the shower curtain and her body lurched forward, crashing hard into the small blonde. Buffy released a surprised gasp and deftly caught the falling girl before she could hurt herself anymore.

"E-easy, there," the blonde sputtered, painfully aware that she was grabbing onto Faith's naked body. Her skin was amazingly soft and warm from the recent bath.

The elder slayer grabbed a large cotton towel and began to dry the other woman's form, while trying not to stare at all the bruises, scars, and naked bits. The change in Faith's body was unbelievable. True, Buffy hadn't seen the other woman since she turned herself in to the Los Angeles police, but the blonde could hardly imagine that life in prison would have done this to her sister-Slayer's body. This was all the Initiative's doing.

Buffy finally gathered the courage to look into Faith's chocolate-colored irises. She expected gratefulness, remorse, embarrassment … something… But all she saw was pain and the anticipation of more pain. It tore the blonde apart that their relationship had disintegrated into this.

Lightly holding onto just the tips of the taller woman's hand, Buffy led the rogue slayer down the small hallway and into her bedroom. Faith allowed herself to be brought into the other room, but her eyes darted from side to side as if she expected an imminent attack. She held her body rigid, and her broad shoulders erect.

"I'll…I'll get you something to sleep in," the blonde slightly stuttered. She turned her back on the other woman who continued to stand awkwardly in the center of the room, holding the bath towel loosely around her tight form. Buffy rummaged through her dresser drawer quickly, finding an oversized t-shirt and cotton pajama shorts for the younger slayer.

"Here," Buffy softly said, placing the clothing items in Faith's arms. The dark slayer looked down at the pajamas and bit her bottom lip as if she had no idea what they were for.

Sensing the panic that was quickly rising within the dark brunette, Buffy quickly sputtered. "Oh, um. I'll help. If you need help, I mean."

Buffy dressed the other woman as quickly as she could while Faith stared at her thin hands, a look of total perplexity sprawled across her face. It was as if the Boston girl couldn't understand why her hands could no longer perform seemingly simple tasks like dressing herself. The elder slayer helped her step into the boxer shorts, which turned into a lengthy chore with Faith continuing to be distracted by her hands and the small blonde looking anywhere but at the dangerous woman's long legs. The t-shirt was equally taxing.

"Sit down on the bed," Buffy lightly instructed when the clothing challenged had been accomplished. The brunette looked up from her hands, her eyes questioning.

"I'll, uh, brush your hair," Buffy clarified, wielding a wide-toothed comb in one hand. She felt a slight blush creep onto her cheeks. "Those tangles were pretty wild, and I don't think my conditioner did much to help."

Faith obediently sat down on the blonde slayer's quilted comforter. She pulled her long legs tight to her chest and rested her chin on her bare knees.

The small slayer climbed onto the bed as well and positioned herself behind the Boston girl. She carefully began to attack each individual snarl in the brunette's matted hair, allowing a blanket of comfortable silence to fall over them.

Buffy set the wide-toothed comb down on the comforter and brushed her fingers through the other woman's thick curls. The small blonde was surprised by the small smile that had unexpectedly found its way onto her mouth when she thought about what the girl sitting on her bed had been like before…everything had become so complicated.

Buffy's fingers stopped when she felt a bald patch with the pads of her fingers – an unmistakable small square of short brown fuzz as if Faith's head had been recently shaved there.

"Are you going prematurely bald?" the blonde lightly joked. She stiffened suddenly when her fingertips brushed against the perfect square of stitches along the perimeter of the patch.

"Faith." The name escaped from her lips with a softness that surprised both women. "What did they do to you?"

TBC


	4. Chapter 27

Buffy awoke to the sound of the garbage truck outside her bedroom window. She sat up and quietly moaned, the early morning sunlight streaming across her troubled face. Rubbing at her eyes with the palms of her hands, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the blinding light and for her brain to register why she was sleeping on the floor. A soft sigh from above her startled the blonde, but she soon remembered where she was and why.

Although the elder slayer had pressed Faith for details about the mysterious brain surgery it looked like the Initiative had performed on her, the dark woman had remained silent. Buffy finally gave up for the night, mentally promising herself that she would find out what happened in the morning.

The Boston girl had originally struggled, albeit wordlessly, against Buffy's adamant insistence that she take the bed and the blonde sleep on the floor. However, within minutes of the elder slayer's uncomfortable tossing and wriggling around on the carpet, she could hear the light snores of the other girl slumbering above her. It turned into another night of restless turning for Buffy, but at least she slept with the piece of mind that Faith was no longer in danger.

Buffy's careful ministrations the night before had surprised herself. Not only had she doubted being in possession of any care-giver instincts, being an only child, but she was more so taken aback that she had so readily assisted the dangerous woman who had brought her friends, her family, and herself so much pain over the past few years. Quickly dismissing it as nothing more than part of her Slayer duties, Buffy stood up quietly from the floor and her make-shift bed. She tiptoed toward the door, careful not to trip over the piles of discarded clothes so as not to wake up the girl sleeping so soundly in her bed.

Buffy briefly turned to look at Faith before exiting the bedroom. The Boston girl slept with one arm flung over her dark eyes, protecting her from the morning sunshine. Faith's mass of unruly brunette locks appeared slightly damp, having not fully dried since the previous evening's bath, but at least now the stubborn dreadlocks had been banished from her head. Her thick lips were slightly parted, deep and even breaths spilling past her perfect teeth. The elder slayer heard the sound of the doorbell and stiffened in her spot, afraid that the rogue woman would suddenly awake and find the blonde girl staring at her while she slept. Faith moaned lowly, but merely rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face into the soft pillows.

Buffy sighed in relief and silently crept out of her bedroom. She closed the door behind her with a silent click and padded down the carpeted stairs, toward the front entrance. The Californian wiped the sleep from her eyes and readjusting her pajama outfit and ponytail before answering the door. Xander and Willow stood on the other side of the threshold, each wearing bigger-than-life smiles.

"Donuts!" Xander chirped cheerfully, thrusting the flimsy paper box in the slayer's direction.

"And I brought caffeine!" added the bubbly redheaded witch, holding up the coffee carrier in one hand.

Buffy pressed her index finger against her pursed lips, silencing her early morning visitors. "She's still sleeping," she whispered in a hushed tone, nodding her head towards the staircase.

"Rough night?" Xander asked, stepping into the house. The slayer wordlessly shrugged and closed the front door when both of her friends entered the foyer.

"I've had better," Buffy admitted. She moved to usher her two best friends into the kitchen to talk about Faith's fate. Another knock at the front door, however, caused the three friends to pause in their planning.

"Who are you expecting?" Willow asked, glancing towards the door.

Buffy frowned and looked at the entrance as well. "Nobody." She scrunched up her face. "At least, I don't think so?" The blonde slayer wracked her brain for a moment, but came up empty. She and her mom rarely received unexpected visitors, and it was certainly too early for Giles to visit; he would have at least called ahead to warn the young woman.

"I'll be right back, you guys," she stated finally as the knocking persisted. "Start thinking about what to do with Faith while I go see who that is."

The blonde slayer peaked through the window curtains by the front door. Standing on the front steps stood her soldier boyfriend, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt that stretched tightly across his broad chest. He raked his fingers through his sandy blonde hair and fidgeted nervously awaiting the door to open. Buffy closed her hazel-green eyes and groaned audibly. Of course Riley would stop by when she least wanted to see him.

Buffy opened the door, but her grave facial features indicated her displeasure at seeing the Iowan outside of her house.

"I know you don't want to talk to me," Riley started, his voice clipping at a quick tempo, "but just give me a minute. It's important." Despite the corn-fed boy's words, Buffy began to close the door.

"It's about Faith," he blurted out loudly, causing Buffy to resist slamming the door in his face. "I know you have her," he continued as the blonde slayer opened the door wider.

"I'm listening," Buffy growled, still not inviting the boy in. She folded her arms across her chest and glared coldly at her partner.

"I'm going to stall Dr. Walsh as long as I can," the Marine informed her, "but you can't keep her in Sunnydale. The government _will _find her and they'll take you in too." He paused and shoved his awkward hands deep in his jean pockets. "I'm only doing this because I love you, Buffy. I know you don't feel the same way," he shook his head and cast his eyes away from the glaring woman, "but I don't want to see this girl hurting you any more than she already has. I don't want you to get in trouble sticking your neck out for her."

"She's not here, Riley," Buffy insisted coolly. "Do you really think I would be stupid enough to keep her here, knowing the government is after her? You said it yourself; she's dangerous. I wouldn't jeopardize my mother's safety like that." Her mouth twisted into a hard frown. "How dumb do you think I am?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow to the sky.

Riley's boyish features turned somber. Not only did his girlfriend think he had kept a secret from her, but now she thought he was questioning her intelligence. "Where is she?" he asked.

"I don't know." Buffy's tone indicated she was bored and annoyed with the topic of their conversation already. "I woke up this morning and she was gone," the blonde slayer lied.

The Iowan grimaced. "Fine," he grumbled between clenched teeth. "Just promise me you're not going to let this get between us. Don't let _her _mess things up for us again"

"This has nothing to do with Faith, Riley," Buffy snapped bitterly. "You _betrayed_ me," she spit venomously. "You hid her from me even after I told you about my Slayer dreams." The blonde clenched and unclenched her fists by her sides, partly surprised at how angry she was.

"But why does it even matter?" Riley's voice rose to a shrill protest. He threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Why does she matter so much to you?" he questioned. "She's a _monster_, Buffy. She belongs down there with all the other demons we've captured."

"She's a Slayer, Riley," the California girl replied curtly. "The same as me. If I hadn't had a support system - a Watcher, a family, friends - that could just as easily be me," she reminded him. "I could be that _monster_." She spit out the final word with as much anger as her small frame could muster. "Now please leave," she insisted, her hazel-green eyes throwing fire in the direction of her boyfriend.

"Will you call me?" he asked, pathetically clinging to a strand of frazzled and frayed hope. Buffy moved to close the front door. She stopped when she saw Riley's beefy hand in the doorway. "Promise you'll call me," he begged, his eyes flashing betrayal and desperation.

"Fine!" Buffy conceded, angrily. "Just don't expect one any time soon. I need some time to cool off about all of this."

Riley removed his hand from the door jam and gave his girlfriend a lopsided grin. "Thanks, Buffy," he smiled. He moved forward as if expecting to kiss the blonde slayer. The small woman held up her hands, pushing against his broad chest.

"Woah. What part of "cooling off" didn't you understand?" she demanded, taken aback by his abrupt forwardness.

The soldier stepped backwards and down one step. His face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, unable to look the woman in the face. "Call me later," he called over his shoulder as he turned and stalked down the concrete sidewalk and away from Revello Drive.

Buffy briefly watched her boyfriend walk down the street before closing the front entrance. Her mind was filled with conflicting emotions as she paced back into the kitchen where her two friends fought over the last jelly-filled donut. Willow and Xander looked up when the blonde entered the back room.

"So, uh, guys," Buffy started, suddenly worried. "I seem to have stumbled across a flaw in my plan to have Faith stay here."

"Besides the fact that she's a murdering psycho?" Willow chirped. She grabbed the donut from Xander's hand and shoved it in her mouth. She smiled around the powdered sugar-coated pastry.

"Hey!" protested the offended male, swatting playfully at the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh, guys?" Buffy frowned, calling attention back to her. "A little focus please?" She tugged at her ponytail in frustration.

The two friends flashed the slayer guilty smiles and encouraged her to continue.

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip. "I kinda forgot that the military would still be looking for her." The blonde made a face, realizing her mistake. As a Slayer, she had never had to disguise herself before; her enemies always ended up dead at the end of the night.

Xander smiled, not unkindly, at his blonde friend. "Makes ya kinda wish you'd taken me up on that idea about wearing a mask, huh?"

Buffy grumbled and rubbed at her face. "I have a feeling I'm gonna be hearing a whole lotta `I told you so's'

Willow grinned, wiping the last remnants of the sugared donut from her lips. "Yup, Buff," she grinned widely. "What are friends for?"

A loud crash from upstairs startled the three friends. Buffy's eyes darted anxiously toward the staircase. "Stay here, you guys. I'm gonna go check on her."

The blonde slayer sprinted up the stairs, two at a time, before hesitating outside of her bedroom door momentarily. She pressed her ear against the wooden obstacle, listening for sounds of a scuffle. Could the military have sent someone to retrieve her so soon? Did the Initiative send Riley as a decoy to distract them while they kidnapped Faith again?

Buffy took a deep breath and flung the door open wide, expecting to find the dark slayer ambushed by heavily armed soldiers. Instead, she found Faith rifling through her closet, muttering under her breath. Even with her slayer-hearing, Buffy could only just make out a few scattered words and phrases about "pastels" and "girlie-girl." Relaxing her body from its previous fighting position, the blonde slayer leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms across her chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" she called out. Faith's body instantly tensed, but Buffy's question only made her pause momentarily before she continued to dig through the elder slayer's wardrobe. She offered the other woman no words of explanation.

"You're running, aren't you." Buffy's voice was flat. Her statement wasn't a question; it was an accusation. "And you're making my bedroom even messier than usual," she added.

Faith continued to stand with her back facing the blonde woman. She spoke for the first time since they'd rescued her from the Initiative. "I'm dangerous, Buffy," she rasped, holding her body stiffly. She held a few clothing items balled up in her thin hands. "It's not safe for you or your mom if I stay. Coming back here was a mistake." Faith bent at the waist and began rummaging through a pile of clothes. "I gotta get the hell outta this fuckin' town. There's no way I'm gonna get caught again."

"So that's your big plan then?" Buffy pushed herself off of the doorframe and walked into her room, closer to the feral slayer. "Just run away again?"

Faith spun on her heels and finally faced the blonde woman. Buffy couldn't help but notice how pale the other girl's skin appeared. The Boston girl's thick lips twisted into a sneer. "Do you have _any idea_ what they did to me down there?" Faith posed angrily. The tendons in her neck bulged.

"No," Buffy countered softly, not wanting to test the dark slayer's resolve. "Because this is the _first time_ you've talked to me since being back."

Faith turned her back again on the blonde slayer and continued to toss clothes around, looking for something that might actually fit. Even though she had lost considerable weight, she was still too tall and too busty for most of the Californian's clothes. Plus there was no way she was wearing anything within the pastel palate.

"Where do you think you'll go?" Buffy asked gently as she crept closer, unnoticed, to the other girl.

The dangerous woman shrugged noncommittally, not looking at the blonde. Her shoulder blades looked frail and jagged under the cotton tank top. The sharp bones appeared ready to slice through her thin skin.

"You can't fight me," Buffy frowned. She reached out tentatively, hesitantly moving her hand closer to the bare skin of the Boston girl's shoulder.

"What did you say?" Faith spun around quickly, causing the blonde woman to yank her hand back. The rogue woman looked at her former nemesis, momentarily stunned by her words. _"How could she know about the operation?"_ she asked herself. Her mind flooded with unasked questions. _"How long did she know I was down there before she decided to "rescue" me? Did she know what they were doing? Did she know they were going to neuter me?"_

"You can't fight me on this," Buffy clarified, crossing her awkward arms across her chest. "You're too weak to fend for yourself. And I'm not going to let you run again."

"I know I can't fight you," Faith mumbled thickly, absent-mindedly touching her fingers to her head. She silently fingered the bald spot. The hair had begun to slowly re-grow, but apparently Slayer re-cooperation didn't include hair growth.

"Oh. Well, uh, good," sputtered the blonde. She hadn't expected the dangerous brunette to concede to her so easily. Buffy retreated and sat down on her unmade bed. The dark slayer continued to look lost in her thoughts. "At least wait until Giles gets in contact with Angel," the elder slayer insisted. She grabbed Mr. Gordo off the carpeted floor and set him on the bed. "We'll let him know what's going on and Angel can pick you up and go back to LA."

"Giles?" The Boston girl's eyes regained their focus and her husky voice sounded panicked. She snapped her head in the direction of the seated girl. "You can't tell him I'm here, Buffy. He's just gonna rat on me and turn me in to the Council."

"I won't let him." Buffy shook her head and her voice was strong and sure. "Besides, _he's _not the one who called the Council, remember? That was all Wesley's doing. Both times," she added. "Giles hasn't worked for the Council in a very long time, and neither have I. There's no reason to get them involved as long as you don't cause any trouble."

The brunette flinched at the mention of the other Watcher's name - the man she had brutally tortured. Her head seemed to throb just thinking about the pain she had inflicted upon the uptight English Watcher just months ago.

"I'm gonna go get rid of Willow and Xander," Buffy declared, standing up from the bed. "I don't need to get them mixed up in this anymore than they already are. Find something that fits you," she ordered, waving a hand toward her closet, "then we're going to tell Giles."

Faith opened her mouth to protest.

"Not another word," Buffy warned. She narrowed her eyes sternly before turning on her heels and bounding noisily down the staircase.

Faith bent at the waist to pick up a discarded piece of clothing off of the floor. She winced at the pastel skirt in her hand. "I get it now," she muttered to herself. "I died in that fucked up military prison. Cause I'm now officially in Hell."

The bell above the Magic Box's front entrance jangled as the two slayers walked in out of the mid-afternoon sunlight and into the store. Giles didn't look up from his inventory book, distracted momentarily by the wash of numbers on the page. Faith whistled under her breath as she admired the store.

"Look at you, G-man," the dark slayer purred. "Moving up in the world."

Recognizing the husky drawl, Giles's eyes snapped up off of the page he had just been so seriously inspecting. "Good Lord," he squeaked, the words soaked in panic. The Watcher quickly set his spiraled notebook on the countertop, his body tensed. A look of relief washed over his lined face, however, when he saw the blonde slayer standing casually next to the Boston girl.

"Buffy!" He exhaled deeply and felt the tension immediately leave his body. "You found her! And…" He eyeballed the younger woman's uncharacteristic outfit of sweatpants and t-shirt. "And apparently the apocalypse has come."

"I'm too tall for B's jeans," Faith answered the Englishman's silent question, shrugging her thin shoulders. Normally the Boston girl would have felt vulnerable without her armor of dark makeup and leather, but having spent several months in prison orange, sans eyeliner, had changed her attitude about the necessity of fashion.

Giles removed his glasses and began to wipe them on his shirttails. "Where was she?"

"Standing right here," Faith grumbled, shoving her hands in her pockets. The grey sweatpants hung vicariously from her jutting hipbones. "I'm evil, not deaf," she muttered.

The blonde ignored the rogue slayer's words. "The Initiative captured her," she told her Watcher. "I'm not sure how it happened or even really why." Buffy cast her eyes anxiously at the woman next to her. "She hasn't told me yet."

"Still standing here," the dark slayer mumbled, kicking at imaginary rocks with her Adidas sandals. None of Buffy's shoes fit her either.

Giles maneuvered his way out from behind the store's front counter and walked toward the two girls. He rearranged the glasses at the end of his nose and opened his mouth as if to speak. Buffy held up a hand, silencing the elder man. "Can we save the interrogation for later, Giles?" She gave the Watcher a half-smile. "I really don't think she's up to all our questions just yet."

"Of course, Buffy," the Englishman conceded. He flashed the brunette a gentle smile. Faith instantly looked flustered by his unearned kindness.

"C'mon," Buffy urged, her voice containing a hint of excitement. She grabbed onto the Boston slayer's elbow. "I want to show you the back room."

Faith raised an eyebrow, but obediently followed the elder woman towards the back of the shop.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" Buffy gushed as she walked into the back training area. "Xander and Giles built it so I wouldn't have to train at the University gym." She chuckled to herself. "You wouldn't _believe _some of the looks I got when I tried working out there."

A small smirk formed on the brunette girl's thick lips. "Bet ya got all the dudes' junk shrinkin' up from watchin' you dead lift more than they weigh."

"So whatdoyasay?" the blonde rushed, ignoring the other woman's crude remarks. Buffy raised her eyebrows expectantly and bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"Not following, Blondie," the Boston girl frowned and found herself momentarily distracted by the hazel flecks of color in the smaller woman's green eyes.

"Do you, uh, wanna train?" the blonde asked hesitantly. "You know…help regain some of your strength?"

The brunette found herself surprised by the ease with which she was falling back into her usual banter with the elder slayer. "Dunno, B." She felt the cocky smile resting on her lips. "You could never really top me when I was at full-strength," she bantered. "Sure you wanna get me back there so soon?"

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out. "Whatever," the small woman complained. "You just got lucky a few times."

Faith swallowed hard, her eyes gravitating to the unconscious invitation to capture the other slayer's bottom lip with her own mouth. _"Woah there, Lehane. You must _really _be hard up if you're going down _that _road again." _The Boston girl knew all too well that her problems with Buffy had always stemmed from her unreturned attraction to the other woman. The dark woman shook her head hard, erasing the graphic imagery of what she wanted to do with the blonde slayer's mouth.

Faith cleared her throat to make sure she didn't squeak like a prepubescent boy. Looking down at her sad ensemble of sweat pants and a t-shirt, she shrugged. "Why not?" she conceded. "Might as well since I'm not exactly dressed for Bronzin' it."

A small smile fluttered onto the blonde's lips. "Think you might wanna spar?" she asked eagerly.

Faith visibly stiffened at the suggestion.

"I'll be easy on you, I promise," Buffy smiled, mistaking the Boston girl's body language for nervous energy. She pulled her arm across her chest and stretched out the tightness in her shoulder. Sleeping on the floor was definitely not comfortable, even for a slayer. She'd have to do something about Faith's sleeping arrangements while she stayed at her mom's house.

"I can't fight you, Buffy." The brunette's words were soft. She looked away, pretending to be interested in the weapons that decorated the brick walls of the training room.

"Relax," the Californian breathed. "I know you'll need a while before you're back to Buffy-awesome-fighter level. I just thought you might like to…" The elder slayer frowned and cut herself off. She hadn't realized how much she missed sparring with the other slayer. Sparring with Giles was…educational, but she could never just let loose knowing that her sparring partner was not as capable as she. But she didn't want to beg; if Faith didn't want to spar her, then she would drop the matter completely.

Faith felt agitated by the blonde's sudden silence. "It's not you, okay?" she bellowed. "God, Buffy." She raked her fingers through her brown locks. "Why does everything have to be _about you_?"

The elder slayer narrowed her eyes. "I never said -,"

"Yeah, well that fuckin' pout on your lips did all the talkin' for ya," Faith spit bitterly.

Buffy gave the woman a stunned look. _"Everyone always loves my pout," _she mused to herself._ "Why doesn't Faith love my pout?"_

"Those military bastards," Faith began, looking less agitated than before. "The Initiative or whatever you called them before. They broke me, okay? I think…" she paused and touched at the small fuzzy square on the back of her head again. "I think they put something inside my head that keeps me from fighting."

The blonde woman blinked blankly, staring at the other girl. "What do you mean, it keeps you from fighting?"

"I can't fight," Faith repeated, quickly losing patience with the blonde slayer. "Demons, yes. Humans, no. If I try to hurt a human, something inside my head explodes. It's like someone fuckin' poking me in the brain with a cattle prod."

Buffy's lips twisted into a wry smile. "You know, Faith," she started, "if you didn't want to spar, you could have just said so."

"You think I'm acting here?" Faith raised her voice manically. "You think this is some kind of fuckin' joke?"

The Boston woman quickly grabbed a discarded sword from a wooden table. She raised it above her head and sliced down quickly in the direction of Buffy's head. The sword fell harmlessly from the brunette woman's hands, leaving the startled blonde unscathed. Faith's hands flew up to her cranium and she grabbed onto thick chunks of her wild locks, unleashing a primal scream.

"Oh, God. Faith," Buffy reached out to help the other woman, but she wasn't quite sure how she _could _help her. The Boston woman screamed and slapped the helping hand away from her body.

"You still think this is a joke, Buffy?" she yelled. Her chocolate brown eyes scanned the room for another weapon. She grabbed a small hatchet off of the wall.

Buffy took a few steps backwards and held up her hands in retreat. "Faith," she murmured quietly. "Put down the sharp object, okay? Let's talk this over."

Faith swung the weapon through the air, chopping side armed. She unleashed a blood-curdling scream before the dangerous axe reached the other slayer's body. The hatchet flew from her hands and embedded itself into the stationary sparring dummy across the room.

Giles rushed into the room. "What's going on in here?" he bellowed, holding an armed crossbow in one hand. The Watcher flashed the blonde a questioning look.

Faith fell to the ground and sobbed loudly into her hands. "I'm evil, Buffy," she choked out between the tears. "Don't ever forget that."

TBC


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: the Prodigal Daughter

"Shit, get down."

Buffy rammed a boney shoulder into the Boston woman, causing her to crash noisily into a large green shrub.

"What the fu-!" she protested angrily from the ground, her tirade only cut short by the feeling of Buffy's hot hand clamped over her mouth.

After leaving the Magic Shop, Buffy had insisted on returning to her mother's house with Faith, despite Giles' insistent nagging that they interrogate the Boston girl about what had happened to her. Although the dark woman was adamant that she was fine and could handle the English Watcher's questioning, Buffy had dragged her back towards Revello Drive instead.

The blonde slayer crouched near Faith, who remained flat on her back in the dirt. Buffy's eyes were trained on something in the distance. "Military," she breathed, finally removing her hand from the dark slayer's mouth.

"How can you tell?" Faith demanded, her voice a shrill whisper. Her body twitched and flexed in anger, not from Buffy's noisy attempt to keep her safe, but from the proximity of the Marines. A silent mantra flashed through her head. _"I'll make you pay. I'll make you pay."_

"Well for starters, they have ear pieces," Buffy murmured at the other girl, interrupting her thoughts of revenge. "They're trying to be stealthy, but I can see the wires. Secondly, their shoulders are far too broad to be regular humans. They're definitely of the GI Joe variety."

"So what do we do?" Faith asked lowly. She bounced up from the ground and took a crouched position next to the blonde slayer. "Knock some skulls together…." She trailed off and frowned. "No, I guess that wouldn't work since I'm all broken and shit." Her eyes narrowed, clearly feeling beyond angry to be so helpless.

Buffy laid a strong, reassuring hand on her sister-Slayer's shoulder. "Stay here," she instructed softly but assertively, her eyes never straying from the two plain-clothes servicemen stalking her front yard. "I'm gonna get rid of them."

The blonde slayer stood up from her crouched position and hollered in a high falsetto: "Oh my God!"

The two men standing in front of Buffy's house looked up to find the owner of the high-pitched squeal.

"Like, are you guys cops?" she bubbled, running over to the two men. "Oh my God, cause you _totally _look like cops to me." Buffy grabbed onto one of the men's arms. "Oh. My. God!" she cooed. "Your bicep is like _so _huge!"

Despite her annoyance at hiding, Faith clamped her hand over her own mouth, nearly doubling over in laughter at the elder slayer's Valley Girl impression.

"Miss?" the other man's partner questioned, raising his eyebrows at the strange blonde. "Is there something we can do for you?"

Buffy huffed loudly. "Ugh! I just ran into, like, the freakiest girl down the street. I think she was on some serious drugs or something."

"Girl? Where? What'd she look like?" the man whose arm Buffy continued to cling onto demanded, nearly drooling at the opportunity to recapture the dark slayer.

The elder slayer released her hold on the man's arm and cocked her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Brunette. Wavy hair," she started. "A little taller than me, I guess. Really sexy…I mean…" she trailed off, feeling the blush creep onto her face from her unconscious outburst. "I mean…she has a mouth." Buffy folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her bottom lip. "She was rude," she stated bluntly, pouting like a spoiled child. "I did _not _like her."

"And where did you say you saw her?" demanded the second man.

Buffy waved a nonchalant hand away from Revello Drive. "I ran into her over by The Pump when I went to get a mocha," she carefully lied.

The two undercover soldiers exchanged glances and finally nodded at each other. The second man touched lightly at his ear and mumbled something under his breath, no doubt calling in the tip.

The man whom the Californian had been fawning gave Buffy a lopsided grin. "Thanks, Miss," he gushed. He looked momentarily flustered as his partner gave him an impatient glare. "Uh, maybe I'll see you around sometime."

The two soldiers took off down the street at a brisk pace, momentarily leaving the Summers' home unguarded. Buffy turned on her heels and smiled in the direction of the shrubbery in which she knew the Boston slayer hid. "Let me go in first," she called when she knew the soldiers were out of range. "I want to make sure there's no surprises waiting for us inside."

Buffy bounced up the porch and slowly opened the front door, finding it unlocked. She grimaced when it whined loudly as she pushed it open. So much for the element of surprise.

"Buffy?" called the voice from the back part of the house. The blonde tensed and winced, instantly recognizing the feminine voice.

"_Oh crap," _she silently lamented._ "She's not supposed to be back yet. I'm in _so _much trouble."_

"Buffy?" Joyce strolled out of the dining room area and into the foyer to greet her daughter. "What are you doing here?" She gave her daughter a warm hug. "Not that I'm not ecstatic to see you," she qualified, "but it's the weekend – shouldn't you be, you know…enjoying being young and in college?" The woman beamed at her daughter.

Buffy gave her mother a strained smile. "I, uh…" she hesitated. "Promise you're not gonna get angry?" she blurted out.

Joyce raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Well, I know it's not the car since I took that to my convention."

"No, I uhm, didn't do anything like that," she assured her mom. "But," she fumbled with the words, not sure how to tell her mom without having her freak out. "Uh, someone's back in town and I kinda said she could stay here." Buffy bit at her bottom lip.

Joyce looked as though she was quickly running down lists of names inside her head. Someone with whom she went to school? Maybe an old friend from Hemery High? Who could her daughter be babbling about? And why did she look so guilty and nervous?

At that moment, Faith walked through the open front door. "S'up, Mrs. S?" she nodded in the direction of the blonde's mother. The brunette girl shoved her hands into the pockets of her grey sweatpants. Joyce's eyes flashed open in shock and surprise.

"I thought I told you to wait!" Buffy turned and hissed at the younger slayer.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly and gave the elder girl an easy smile, showing off her dimples. "Sorry, B," she apologized lightly. "I got tired of waiting outside."

The blonde swatted angrily at her sister-Slayer's shoulder. "Are you trying to give my mom a heart-attack?" she growled.

"Buffy," Joyce interrupted. "It's okay. I'm fine," she insisted. "Just…just a little surprised, is all."

Buffy stared at her mom, her jaw dropped. Why couldn't her mother have been this cool about surprises when she was in high school? _"Hey, Mom. Yeah, I burned the gym down and got expelled. Sorry, 'bout that. Oh, Mom! Have you met my new boyfriend? Yeah, he's a 250 year-old vampire. By the way, Mom – I'm a Slayer."_

"Faith, honey," the woman smiled, opening her arms. "Welcome home." She enveloped the Boston girl in a maternal hug. Buffy could see the rogue slayer's body immediately tense at the show of kindness. After a few uncomfortable moments, Faith shrugged out of the embrace. She flexed her shoulders stiffly and her eyes shifted anxiously from side to side. "Uh, thanks," the brunette girl mumbled uneasily.

"I bet you two are hungry," Joyce said, smiling at the girls. She looked back and forth between her stunned daughter and the other uncomfortable teen. "I'll go make us some dinner."

Buffy looked after her mother's retreating form as she walked back into the kitchen and whistled low under her breath. She glanced back at the rogue slayer whose face had slipped back into its apathetic mask. "That was weird," the elder girl mumbled under her breath.

Buffy felt a familiar pang of jealousy in the pit of her stomach and she frowned as she gazed at the younger slayer. Her mother had always gone out of her way to make Faith feel welcome. The jealousy was quickly replaced by guilt, however. Perhaps things would have turned out differently between the two slayers if only the blonde had shown a little more warmth and welcome to the Boston girl when she had originally arrived in Sunnydale a few years ago.

Without a word of explanation, Buffy grabbed onto the other girl's hand and led her up the carpeted staircase and into her bedroom. The brunette followed silently, yet obediently.

When she entered her bedroom, Buffy plopped down on her unmade bed, instinctively grabbing for Mr. Gordo. Faith stood awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure of what to do with her hands.

"Could you close the door?" Buffy asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. She nodded toward her bedroom door. "I wanna change into my pajamas since it looks like we're in for the night. No need to be uncomfy."

Faith wet her tantalizing lips with her tongue, silently promising all the pleasure she could offer the elder girl. "I'll get you feeling comfortable, B," the dark slayer rasped thickly, stalking dangerously close to the seated blonde. "Real comfortable."

The Boston girl crawled on the soft bed and straddled the blonde woman, a strong thigh on either side of the svelte girl's lap. She trailed her fingertips along the outsides of the blonde's slender, yet toned arms, her arms branding a fire-y path down the Californian's soft skin.

Buffy abruptly grabbed the rogue slayer by her brunette waves, pulling her face down for a bruising and impassioned kiss. The former convict moaned into the embrace, brushing her tongue against the blonde slayer's.

Faith swallowed hard and began walking backwards towards the doorframe. She cast her eyes on the floor in her nervousness. "Oh, I'll uh…give you some privacy then," she mumbled uncomfortably.

Buffy shrugged as if taking off her clothes in front of former enemies had become a habit. "Sure, whatever," she stated. She smiled slyly at the awkward Bostonian as she continued to creep closer to the exit. "Never imagined you would become such a prude though."

Faith muttered something incoherent under her breath and closed Buffy's bedroom door as she escaped into the relative safety of the hallway. She turned on her heels and headed straight for the bathroom to pull herself together.

The dark brunette stared hard into the mirror. She took a few deep breaths to help slow the rapid thumping inside of her chest. Running the faucet, she dipped her cupped hands into the warm, running water. She splashed some water onto her face and rubbed at the skin. Faith leaned her weight on her hands, one palm placed on either side of the sink, letting the water continue to run down the drain. She looked up at herself in the mirror again, blinking hard.

Everything felt too surreal. When the Boston girl had been released from prison for good behavior and she decided to return to Sunnydale to make amends, she had never imagined to be welcomed back into the Summers women's confidences so easily. Everything was a little too easy – Joyce not holding a grudge for her pseudo-kidnapping; Buffy not mentioning the body switch or that hunk of meat boyfriend.

In fact, ever since Buffy had welcomed her back into her home and her life, she hadn't mentioned _anything_ about the sandy-haired fraternity boy. The Boston girl felt a strange smile flutter onto her mouth, but she shook her head violently, dislodging it from her face. She could never hope for that. She could never allow herself to hope that Buffy would ever look at her and see more than a second-hand slayer or a slutty, murdering psycho.

Faith grabbed the hand towel hanging from the wall and dried her damp face. She sighed deeply and turned the faucet off. No, she resigned to herself. She could never again hope for more than a tenuous friendship with her sister-Slayer.

"So, we need to figure out where you're gonna sleep," Buffy stated when Faith re-entered the bedroom. "Cause, I'm so not sleeping on the floor anymore." The small blonde was now in a tight t-shirt and flannel pajama pants adorned with snowshoeing penguins. She absentmindedly tossed Mr. Gordo from one hand to the other from her perch on the unmade bed.

Faith swiped in the air and nabbed Mr. Gordo from the blonde's hands. She stared at the pig's worn face. "You really sleep with this thing?" she asked, a smirk on her face. "Its face looks like you've loved him to death."

"It's settled then," Buffy nodded. "You're sleeping on the couch."

"Hey!" Faith protested, unable to stop the stubborn smile from creeping onto her mouth. She tossed the stuffed pig back at the seated blonde.

"Girls!" Joyce yelled up the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her sister-Slayer. "You sure you're ready for this?" she asked skeptically.

The dark slayer cracked her knuckles and grinned widely at the elder girl. "Bring on the bloodshed," she smiled.

Buffy brought her empty plate into the kitchen where her mother was transferring the leftovers into Tupperware containers. She slid the dish into the sink full of soapy water. "Thanks for dinner, Mom," the blonde girl smiled. "You want some help cleaning up?"

Joyce looked up from the mashed potatoes. "No, honey. I'm fine. You girls go watch some television or something. I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do."

The slayer glanced guiltily at her mother for a moment and then looked away. "Thanks for, um, being so cool about all this," she stated quietly.

Not looking up from the leftover gravy, Joyce nodded gravely. "She's a sweet girl, Buffy. Under all that makeup and anger, there's a good person. She just needs a little kindness in her life and some people she can trust."

The young coed smiled at her mother. "How'd you get so smart, Mom?" she grinned, picking at the small serving bowl of green beans.

Joyce lightly swatted her daughter's hand away from the food. "Just call it a Mother's Intuition," she explained.

Buffy exited the kitchen and padded towards the living room. Faith sat in the middle of the couch, idly changing channels. She looked up when the blonde entered the room. "Does your mom need some help in there?" she thoughtfully asked.

The elder slayer gave the Boston girl an easy smile. "Nope," she assured her. "She says she'll take care of it all."

Faith set the remote on the coffee table and wiped her clammy palms on her sweatpants. "Your mom's wicked cool, you know that, right? I mean, she didn't even ask me about why I wasn't still in prison." She paused, hesitating. "You're _sure _she's okay with all of this?" Faith winced. "I mean, last time I saw her, I wasn't exactly the perfect houseguest."

Buffy glanced back towards the kitchen and smiled wistfully. "She _is_ pretty cool, isn't she? Believe me – if she had a problem with you being here, she certainly wouldn't have rolled out the Welcome Wagon and made you her famous meatloaf."

The blonde turned her attention back to the dark slayer. "Whatcha watching?" she asked perkily, plopping down on the couch close to the Boston slayer.

Faith's eyes darted down to where she felt the other girl's thigh pressing tightly against her own. Buffy pulled her legs up from the floor and onto the plush couch, causing her to press even closer to the Boston girl. "Uh, nothing really," the rogue girl stumbled.

The Californian reached across Faith to snatch the remote from off of the coffee table. The brunette involuntarily shivered when she felt the other girl's small breasts brush lightly against her legs. Buffy seemed to not notice the effect her uncharacteristic and unexpected cuddling was having on the dark girl.

Finally settling on a mind-numbing sitcom, Buffy snuggled in deeper into the couch and the Boston slayer. The two girls sat in silence, watching random television shows. Periodically, the younger girl would glance in the direction of the small blonde, admiring her profile, her thick eyelashes, and the way the television screen seemed to dance off of her hazel-green eyes. _"Stop it, Lehane," _she darkly chastised herself, a silent reminder to keep her feelings for the blonde woman deeply buried. _"This road only leads to pain." _

Eventually, Buffy's eyes began to close on their own despite her attempts to keep them open. The previous night's lack of comfortable sleep had suddenly caught up with her. Faith looked over at her left shoulder when she felt the blonde's head lightly resting against her body. Buffy's eyes were lightly closed and her breathing came out in even bursts between her slightly parted lips.

The dark slayer reached over hesitantly with her right hand to brush at the light blonde strands that had fallen across the other girl's forehead. Her head screamed at her to stop even as her fingertips brushed hesitantly against the corn silk-soft hair. Buffy's eyes fluttered open at the soft touch and she looked up in Faith's dark chocolate colored eyes. The brunette appeared slightly pained by the elder slayer's close proximity.

Buffy gave her former enemy a small smile, and then her mouth twisted into a yawn. "Mmm…sorry about that," she murmured lazily, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hope I didn't drool on you."

Faith could only manage a grunt in reply. Her throat felt dry and her tongue heavy.

Buffy stood up from the couch and Faith instantly missed the heat of the other girl's body pressing against her own. She silently cursed at her lack of emotional control. Just a few days back in the company of the elder slayer and she was already pining for her unearned attentions.

The blonde yawned again and stretched her arms above her head. Her small t-shirt traveled northwards, revealing a small patch of toned skin. "You have enough blankets?" she asked, looking at the brunette. The dark slayer nodded dumbly, her eyes trained on the few inches of naked, bronzed skin.

**************Faith leaned forward from her seat on the couch and brushed her lips lightly against the blonde's bare skin. Buffy sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she felt the Boston girl's mouth dancing across her exposed stomach. She reached down and twisted her fingers around the brunette's wild mane. Her toned abdominal muscles twitched and flexed under the rogue woman's delicate touch.

The younger slayer pulled the blonde woman more firmly in her direction, resting her strong hands on the other girl's pert backside. The brunette dipped her tongue into the Californian's shallow bellybutton, tasting the sweetness of the girl's skin. Faith nipped and licked her way across the slender woman's midsection, pulling sighs and moans from the blonde's upturned mouth. She scraped her canines across Buffy's jutting hipbones, causing the elder woman to hiss from the sensations shooting through her disciplined form.

"Get some sleep, Fai," the blonde ordered, rousing Faith from the impure thoughts of her mouth on the elder slayer's midsection. "Cause tomorrow, you're gonna need all your strength." The blonde gave her sister-Slayer a mischievous grin, her hazel-green eyes almost twinkling, although she seemed to be oblivious to the dark slayer's lascivious thoughts. Unexpectedly, Buffy leaned over and pressed her soft lips against the Boston girl's forehead. "Sweet dreams," she murmured, her breath hot against the former convict's skin.

Faith could only stare in bewilderment as Buffy sashayed up the staircase toward her own bedroom. When the Californian disappeared from her sight, the dark brunette turned in her seat and punched one of the couch pillows in frustration. At least the chip in her head didn't keep her from punishing furniture.

Elsewhere…

"It seems like such a waste," he heard the stern female voice sigh. "All of those studies and tests and we're still really no closer to understanding the potential of the Slayer."

"And we have no intelligence on this matter? No idea where she's escaped to?" replied a gruff voice – no doubt one of the commanding officers overseeing the operation.

Maggie Walsh and a highly decorated officer walked down the sterile hallway together toward the facility's main exit. When the dark slayer had been rescued from her captivity, the military had sent in new personnel to handle the situation. For the past few hours Maggie Walsh had been showing the new officers around the Initiative's facilities and debriefing them on the Slayer situation.

"Nothing, sir," the head scientist shook her head. "It's as if she never existed," she replied wistfully. "We have soldiers stationed at all the major transportation centers in the city and the task teams have been informed of her disappearance. They've been combing the town for her around the clock since her escape."

"The behavioral chip," the other man continued, raising his voice in acute anger. "We never thought to make it a GPS system?"

The woman's mouth pursed. "No. It's not a tracking device," she stated stiffly, clearly offended by the rough military man. "It's a behavior modifier so the demon hostiles cannot continue to hurt humans."

"What about this blonde girl who broke in here?" he demanded, waving his hands in frustration. "What do we know about her status?"

"I've had soldiers stationed outside the Summers' girl's dormitory as well as her mother's residence," the small woman informed her superior. "There's no sign of the other Slayer."

"Then bring in this Summers girl, Dr. Walsh," the man ordered. "She's a Slayer – she'll do. And from what you've told me, she's been nothing but a thorn in the military's side."

The scientist's face twisted into a frown. "It's not as easy as all that, sir," she stated slowly. "It appears that one of our best soldiers, Riley Finn, is romantically involved with Buffy Summers. If we tamper with her, we risk losing him."

The uniformed man snorted. "Romantically involved with this _mutant_? I don't believe it. Bring in the Summers girl, Walsh," he repeated curtly. "I want her tested."

"But sir, I really don't think that's –," the woman protested weakly.

"I've made up my mind, Doctor," the man briskly interrupted. "This project is too valuable to the government and the military to let one soldier's hormones get in the way."

"Understood, sir. I'll assemble a team right away," Maggie Walsh replied. She smiled at the officer, privately pleased to finally be getting Buffy Summers out of her way.

Riley held his breath as the two government employees passed the small hallway in which he stood currently undetected. His boyish features twisted into a grimace as Dr. Walsh and the commanding officer clicked past him in the silent corridor.

The well-trained Marine had hoped it would never come to this – having to choose between the country and the woman he loved.

TBC


	6. Chapter 5

"You can't be serious," the brunette groaned staring up at the massive building.

"And _you _can't keep living in my sweatpants," the blonde slayer countered, a small smirk falling onto her lips.

Faith stood outside of the Sunnydale Mall looking horrified at the looming building in front of her. She had survived being stabbed, fought herself out of a coma, and kept her nose clean in prison; but she wasn't entirely convinced she could survive shopping with the Californian slayer.

Buffy pouted at the other woman's negative reaction. "You look like you just received your death sentence," she complained.

The Boston girl turned to look at the blonde and raised her eyebrow as if challenging the other woman to call this shopping excursion anything but painful.

"Listen, B," the dark slayer started. "Not that I haven't enjoyed a few five-finger discounts in my day, but how can you expect me to _pay _for new clothes? It's not like I got out of jail and discovered I was secretly an heiress," she pointed out. Knowing the blonde all too well, the Boston slayer secretly hoped her sister-Slayer had failed to think this plan all the way through.

The Californian seemed to blush uncomfortably. "Well, it would appear that you've got yourself a Sugar Daddy," she mumbled.

Faith's jaw dropped. "Giles?" she asked, incredulously.

Buffy bit her tongue so as not to burst out laughing. "Oh, God no," she chuckled softly. "Giles would never be so observant to realize that you needed a new wardrobe." The blonde scrunched up her face. "Actually," she grimaced as she continued, "_Angel _wired over some money."

The Boston girl raised an eyebrow. "Soulboy? Really?"

The blonde woman nodded. "Uh huh. He said to pass along his apologies that he can't come get you just yet. Apparently they're dealing with some Big Bad in LA that's taking up all of their time," she told the dark woman.

Faith frowned and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I don't need a chaperone or nothin', B," she insisted darkly, looking away.

"Don't start on this, okay?" Buffy rubbed at her face, annoyed. "I know you're more than capable of taking the bus down to LA all by yourself. But did you ever stop to think that the military probably has people staked out at all the mass transit places?"

The dark slayer's mouth dropped open, but no words came out. Of course the Initiative would still be looking for her. And the most obvious place to start would be the Sunnydale Bus Station.

"Good," Buffy smiled at the other woman's stunned silence. "Now that that's settled," she grabbed the Boston slayer's hand, "let's go spend Angel's money."

Faith grumbled inaudibly but allowed herself to be dragged through the automatic doors of the sprawling building. She could only pray to whatever gods who might be listening that this was quick and as relatively painless as possible. The Boston slayer had dealt with enough torture lately.

Riley quickly rifled through a metal filing cabinet in the Records Room. He couldn't remember the number the Initiative had assigned the dark slayer, but he knew the files well enough to vaguely recall where they had stored the information they had collected on the dangerous woman.

Finding the folder he had been searching for, Riley quickly scanned through the loose papers in the file. Listed, in meticulous detail, were the number and kinds of tests that had been administered during Faith's captivity. In carefully scrawled handwriting, the file noted the results of each test the Initiative had administered and Faith's respective reaction.

Disappointingly, samples of blood and DNA show no significant genetic difference between the hostile and typical female human specimen. Physical examination similarly reveals no irregularities. Hostile exhibits unnatural strength, reflexes, and agility not just for a female, but for a human in general. Toxicology results show no indication of radiation or explanation for this mutation.

Riley stopped reading long enough to roll his eyes. "She's not Spiderman," he mumbled to himself.

_Subject shows extreme hostility towards both humans and demons. Female hostile continues to exhibit physical aggression towards scientists and military personnel despite the behavior modifier. Hostile is able to injure and terminate other hostiles without experiencing pain from modifying device. Chip continues to render subject unable to hurt humans beyond initial attack._

_Have commenced Project 471. Trial batch A7.43 has been administered to subject. Effects of solution inconclusive at this time. Will require further observation._

Riley looked up, momentarily puzzled. He knew the Initiative had been testing the dangerous girl to ascertain the capabilities of a Slayer. The Marine had even conceded to the fact that the military may be cloning her blood to create enhanced soldiers. However, he had never believed that the government would go so far as to test unknown substances on the girl, regardless of this "Project 471's" purpose. Riley continued reading, hoping to discover more about the tests.

_Hostile 87 no longer in captivity. If unable to recover, termination of project and _

_subject is highly advised._

A noise at the door alerted the soldier and he quickly returned the rogue slayer's folder to its place in the filing cabinet without reading another word. A group of scientists walked into the room and curiously eyeballed the out-of-place soldier, but then returned to their clipboards and conversations.

With a curt nod in the direction of the three lab coats, the Marine slipped out of the room and back into the empty hallway. The Iowan took a deep breath and headed towards the exit, not entirely sure what to do with this new information.

"Are you _smelling _those pants?" the blonde asked, a wry smile on her face.

Faith looked up from the clothing item and smiled at her sister-Slayer. "It's leather, B," she explained, flashing her irresistible dimples. "I can't think of a better scent than this."

"Except maybe your sweet little pussy," the younger slayer continued.

The blonde girl smiled and curled her pointer finger, indicating for the dangerous woman to come closer. "Why don't you come here and test out your theory, Fai?" she purred enticingly.

Faith shook her head hard. _"Fuck me," _the dark woman silently lamented as she hung the leather pants back on a hanger. _"Is this _ever _going to stop when I'm around her?"_

The Californian continued to rummage through the clothing rack, her eyes carefully scrutinizing the many options before her. "So I really can't convince you to buy a skirt, huh?" she pouted, eyeballing a patterned knee-length skirt.

"Not unless it's leather, Princess," the Boston girl grinned cheekily. She grabbed another pair of leather trousers from an adjacent rack and held them up to her lower torso. Faith didn't really know her clothing size anymore. During her few months in prison, her curves had filled out due to the three meals a day the inmates were fed. Even her Slayer metabolism hadn't been prepared for the regularity and volume of penitentiary food. Her short stint underground at the Initiative, however, had slimmed her well below her pre-prison weight.

"Hey!" Buffy exclaimed, looking up and meeting the brunette's questioning glance. "I've got a fun idea," she smiled gleefully. "How about _I _pick out an outfit for you?"

Faith blinked a few times, staring blankly at the overly eager slayer. "I must've missed the memo, Blondie. How exactly is that _fun_?" she asked. "Cause me in pastels? That sounds wicked wrong."

The blonde stuck her bottom lip out in another tempting pout. The Boston girl couldn't help herself from teasing the older girl if only to see her protruding bottom lip. Her thoughts ran wild with what she wanted to do with those pouting lips.

"How about this for an idea," Faith conceded, sighing. "I'll let you pick out an outfit for me…." she began as the blonde's hazel-green eyes light up with excitement. "But….," she continued, "we go Bronzin' tonight to break in my new wardrobe _and_ I get to pick out _your _outfit." The Boston girl's dark eyes twinkled mischievously at her impromptu idea.

The elder slayer looked thoughtful for a moment. "That could have some potential," she admitted, cocking her head to one side and tapping her fingers against her pursed lips. "But can we invite the gang along? Wills, Xander, Tara and Anya? It's been a while since we all hung out."

Buffy stared at the dark slayer with such eagerness and hope that despite the Boston girl's reluctance to spend time with the Scoobies, she had no other choice but to give in to the elder slayer's persuasive demands.

"Yeah, okay," Faith conceded grumpily. The blonde girl squealed with excitement and unexpectedly threw her arms around the taller slayer in a thankful embrace.

"It'll be fun," Buffy told the brunette emphatically, not phased when the Boston girl wiggled out of the uncharacteristic hug. "I promise."

Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, Faith turned her attention back to the clothing racks. "_Fuckin' pussy whipped already_," she silently grumbled. The dark slayer knew she had to do something quickly before she became completely wrapped around the small blonde's finger. She was dangerously close already.

Buffy teetered down the carpeted stairs awkwardly. The black heels that Faith had chosen for her might have been in her closet, but she had never really worn them. First, the pumps were far from practical for slaying. Secondly, she could hardly walk in them.

Her two best friends were seated in the kitchen, waiting for the slayer-duo to finish primping before the group planned on going to the Bronze and meeting up with Tara and Anya.

Making a quiet entrance, a small smile crept onto the blonde slayer's mouth when she saw her two friends sitting at the kitchen island drinking hot chocolate. No one could resist her mother.

Xander whistled lowly when the small slayer toppled into the kitchen. "Wow, Buff. You taking fashion lessons from Faith?" A small leer planted itself on his face as his eyes traveled the expanse of her slender body.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" the girl asked, partly offended. Buffy looked down at her ensemble of black tank top and black leather pants. The small blonde had nearly forgotten she even owned the leather trousers and was more than a little surprised that Faith knew where they were in her closet. She touched her lightly crimped blonde hair, pushing some strands away from her eyes. The Boston girl had also been insistent that her sister-Slayer wore her hair down and wavy that night as well.

Willow looked up from her hot beverage and choked when she saw the elder slayer.

She quickly scrambled to her feet from her seat at the kitchen island. "Buffy?" the witch squeaked.

The blonde frowned and looked at the redhead. "Yeah?" she drawled.

Willow's eyes narrowed slightly, still staring at the elder slayer. "Tell me something only Buffy would know."

"What's with you guys tonight?" the blonde asked, her hands placed defiantly on her slender leather-clad hips.

"It's just that, uhm," the redheaded witch stammered. "That's the outfit _she _wore when she was _you._"

"Oh!" Buffy twisted her hands in front of her body anxiously. "Maybe us all going out tonight wasn't such a good idea," she frowned.

"Aww, c'mon Buffster," Xander protested jovially. "We haven't all hung out in a while. Plus Faith hasn't tried to kill us yet! I think that's reason enough to celebrate."

Buffy stuck out her bottom lip. "But what if those military guys are at the Bronze tonight?" she pointed out. "Or worse yet," she winced, "What if _Riley _shows up? I told him I didn't know where Faith was."

"Oh!" Willow suddenly exclaimed. "A glamour!" Her two friends looked quizzically at the witch. "I could do a spell to disguise Faith," the girl explained. "Like, only the people we want can see who she really is – like us, your mom, Giles…Everyone else would see her as someone else." Willow paused, thinking more about her idea. "You could say she's a visiting relative or something."

Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked at her friend suspiciously. "You would really do that for Faith?"

"It's for _you_, Buffy," Willow corrected. "We can't just turn her loose," she conceded. "You're right. The best place for her is with us. At least until Angel comes to pick her up."

Buffy gave her redheaded friend a warm smile. "Thanks, Will," she beamed. "Now that's one less thing I have to worry about. Now we just gotta figure out what to do about Faith's chip."

"Faith's what?" Xander asked, furrowing his forehead in confusion.

The blonde visibly reddened. "Oops. I guess I forgot with all the excitement lately to tell you guys about that." She paused, readying herself for her friends' reactions. "The Initiative put something inside of Faith's head that keeps her from hurting humans."

"Uh, what?" Xander asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Buffy shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure what or why or how, but whatever they did to her…" she tailed off. "If she attacks a human, something gets triggered and it's like an explosion of pain inside her head."

"Wait a minute," Willow interrupted. "How do you know what it does to her? Did she try to hurt you?" she asked quickly, her eyes flashing a little darker at the thought of Faith hurting her best friend. Again.

Buffy grimaced, suddenly realizing her mistake. "No. I, uh," she stammered, verbally back-peddling. "I didn't believe her at first. So she showed me when I wanted to spar at the Magic Box." She shook her head sadly, remembering the previous afternoon. "It completely destroyed her."

Her two best friends remained silent, lost in their own thoughts at this recent revelation.

"So why the chip?" Buffy frowned, continuing. "Did the military know she was dangerous or something? Did they know she was a Slayer when they captured her?"

"Standard protocol, I guess," Xander suggested, taking a sip from his hot chocolate. He poked at the mini marshmallows floating at the surface. "They probably figured she was a demon when they first brought her in."

"They weren't too off on that one," Willow snorted, looking into her own hot beverage mug.

Xander looked up from his mug of hot cocoa suddenly. "You want to help her remove the chip, don't you?" he accused the blonde slayer

Buffy frowned guiltily and averted her eyes from the judgmental glares of her friends.

"She's neutered, Buffy," Willow ranted, her voice tight. "She can't hurt anyone. Isn't that what you wanted?"

The blonde sighed, frustration oozing from her body language. "I want her to be Good because she wants to be," the slayer clarified. "Not because some hunk of metal in her brain makes her."

"How different is the chip from a conscience though?" the witch asserted.

"Wills," Buffy started, choosing her words carefully to convince her friends that this wasn't a completely insane idea, "if you do a bad thing, does your body punish you with pain?"

"Well, no. Not exactly," she mumbled. "But my stomach usually feels a little rumble-y afterwards?"

A thought suddenly occurred to Buffy. She audibly gasped at the dark reality of Faith's vulnerability. "What if she needed to defend herself? From a human attacker?" She waved her hands animatedly. "Like she's on a date and the guy just won't take 'no' for an answer?"

"Faith on a date? That's a laugh," the dark-haired man scowled.

"Xander!" both women shrilly yelled.

Xander opened his mouth to defend himself, but quickly changed his mind. "Forget I was speaking," he apologized bashfully. "Please continue."

A cough from the entrance leading into the kitchen ended the three friends' conversation. The Boston-born slayer stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the door jam. Although the golden-haired slayer had been allowed to pick out the dark girl's outfit that night, Buffy couldn't bring herself to make her sister-Slayer dress in cottons and pastels. Covering those dangerous curves with anything but form-fitting leather would be one fashion crime she was unwilling to commit.

Looking at Faith – a vision in dark red leather pants and a tight white tank top that contrasted nicely with her olive-tinted skin – nearly made the blonde forget her initial anger at the dark girl for choosing her own inappropriate outfit. She couldn't imagine why the Boston girl had purposefully dressed her in the same clothing she had worn during the body-switching nightmare.

Faith nodded in the direction of Xander and Willow. "So the kids know I'm fixed then, yeah?" she stated blankly. "No more bite behind Big Bad Faith?"

Buffy glanced anxiously at the Boston girl, unsure of how much the other girl had overheard. Whenever the dark brunette was around her friends she always seemed like such a different person. Stoical, yet angry. Unimpressed, yet desperate for attention. She became a kind of stranger to the blonde – certainly not the girl she had come to know.

"Willow, uh, suggested we do a spell to disguise you," Buffy stammered, looking at her sister-Slayer and the cloud of resentment that hovered above her head. "She can make it look like it's not you so those military goons won't know it's you."

The witch and dark slayer continued to size each other up, their eyes equally chilly. Faith eyeballed the witch coolly. "You're not gonna make me fat, are ya Red?" she demanded.

The witch couldn't help the smile that fluttered onto her lips. Although the Wicca had certainly pondered turning the dark-haired slayer into a toad on more than one occasion, she had never contemplated making the Boston girl human and unattractive.

Buffy gave her best friend an exasperated look. "Wills," she whined. "We just spent all of Angel's money today at the Mall for a new wardrobe for Faith. The Fashion gods will be greatly displeased if you make all those designer outfits look like moo-moos and sweatpants."

The redheaded Wicca sighed, but nodded. "Fine, fine," she conceded, pouting slightly. "No fat Faith."

"So we do this tonight then?" Xander asked, his glance rapidly moving between the witch and the dark slayer. "Should I call Anya and Tara and tell them we'll be a little late?"

"It's a simple enough spell," the witch assured her two friends. "We could drop by the Magic Shop on the way to the Bronze, actually. That way we can dance the night away without worrying about the Initiative," she smiled widely.

Faith folded her arms across her ample chest and scowled. Buffy and the Scoobies might not worry about the Initiative, but the Boston girl wasn't going to forgive and forget so easily.

Suggested listening: "Trouble" by Britney Spears

"You must really be wanting my Xander having so recently been released from prison," the former vengeance demon deadpanned.

Xander's jaw dropped and the dark-haired boy was only able to squeak out a pathetic protest at his girlfriend's most recent inappropriate outburst. Anya clung onto her boyfriend's arm, not blind to the stunned looks Willow, Xander, and Buffy gave her. The rogue slayer could only snicker at Xander's expense.

"What?" Anya protested, glaring defiantly at the dark slayer. "With no men in jail, I'm sure Faith is desperate for some man-meat." Her eyes flickered briefly between the two slayers. "That is," she paused, thinking momentarily, "unless you've recently turned gay like Willow and Tara."

Xander agilely hopped up from his barstool. "And that's our cue to go dance." He gave his friends an apologetic smile before dragging his protesting girlfriend onto the dance floor.

Faith chuckled under her breath as she followed the awkward couple until they disappeared in a throng of dancers. "That's Xander's girlfriend, huh?" she snickered darkly.

Buffy nodded, lightly laughing as well. "Yup. And Anya's a former vengeance demon, so I wouldn't get on her bad side if I were you." The blonde took a sip from her drink and then squeaked, suddenly remembering that introductions were not over. "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, setting her beverage back on the small circular table. "And this is Willow's girlfriend, Tara."

The brunette nodded in the direction of the shy blonde. "We've met actually," the Boston-girl stated. Faith looked down at her own leather-clad body and suddenly looked vaguely embarrassed. "I was wearing different skin and had a few more screws loose, though."

Tara flashed the young slayer a small, understanding smile. Apologies were not at the top of Faith's favorite things to do.

The sounds of a techno synthesizer filled the air in the small club. Buffy flashed a small smile in the direction of her sister-Slayer who returned the grin with a toothy smile of her own. Wordlessly, Buffy grabbed onto the younger slayer's hand and pulled her in the direction of the dance floor.

"Anxious much, Blondie?" the Boston girl lightly taunted over the music as she allowed the elder slayer to lead them away from the witches and towards the back of the club.

_You and I, left alone cannot be trusted_

_There's a lust we can't control_

_Slowly undress, chest to chest _

_and unless I say goodnight,_

_I know we're only gonna go too far_

_Please, I'm not quite ready for that next level_

_One kiss and that spells trouble_

"Xander and Willow are fun," Buffy turned her head to glance mischievously at her sister-Slayer, continuing to maneuver them around the hordes of frenetically dancing co-eds, "but no one can keep up with a Slayer on the dance floor. I missed this," she admitted, almost shyly.

Faith allowed herself a cheeky grin as Buffy continued to weave them towards the center of the small dance floor. The dark woman couldn't restrain her eyes from resting on the pert, leather-confined backside moving in front of her. "No one can keep up with a Slayer in the bedroom either, Blondie," she silently mused as she allowed herself an eyeful of the smaller woman.

But you could talk me in, talk me into it

If you wanted to

You could talk me in, talk me into it

If you only knew

Yeah I'm liking, I'm liking the way you do o-o

What you do o-o to me

Satisfied with their location on the club floor, Buffy spun around to face the brunette. Noticing the stunned look on the Boston girl's disarmingly gorgeous face, the California slayer pursed her lips into a smirk. "Don't tell me you lost your moves in prison, Fai," she teased, her hazel-green eyes flashing a wordless challenge.

Faith could only grin stupidly at the taunting blonde. She wanted to teach Buffy all the _new _moves she'd learned in prison as well.

Buffy closed her eyes and lost herself to the pulsing beat and the energy emanating from the surrounding crowd. She moved her hips in time to the throbbing bass and smiled, knowing that the Boston girl was dancing so near. Knowing the lyrics to the catchy pop-tune, Buffy opened her eyes when the song reached her favorite lines. Her thin lips twisted into a wry smile and she mouthed the words, staring hard at the brunette girl.

'Cause I'm a good girl but I could be bad

_You're not quite there, you're not on my level_

_Trust me, for you I'm trouble_

"They look like they're getting along much better?" Tara observed. She nodded toward the two dancing slayers. The shy Wicca took a quick sip from her iced beverage and tucked a rogue strand of her blonde hair behind one ear.

Willow nodded, glancing in the direction of the former enemies. "They always seemed to enjoy dancing with each other," she added wistfully. "I think it was one of the only times they weren't fighting or bickering."

The two women watched as Faith grabbed onto the smaller slayer's jutting hipbones and pulled her dangerously close. The blonde seemed not to notice, nor mind. Her eyes were closed and her head was tilted backwards. She lifted her arms and snaked her hands through the air, losing herself to the pounding bass.

Willow felt her face grow inexplicably hot watching the two attractive women dancing so provocatively close. "Looks like they're _really _getting along well," she murmured to her girlfriend with a sly grin. The two women brushed their fingertips underneath the table, smiling knowingly at each other.

"Hey girls," the Iowan soldier greeted the two witches, interrupting their exchange. Riley stood awkwardly at their table, a tight grin looking out of place with his boyish features. "Have you seen Buffy tonight?" he asked, his voice tainted with desperation.

"Oh, hi, Riley," Willow forced a smile in the soldier's direction. The girlfriends exchanged anxious glances. "She's, uh, out there dancing," she stumbled nervously.

Riley allowed his eyes to follow the trajectory of the redheaded girl's glance. "Who's the blonde?" he asked as he hovered over the small circular table. The two women looked up from their beverages, alarmed by the bitterness in the military man's voice.

"Oh!" Willow chirped. "It's, um…Buffy's…er…cousin. She's visiting from out of town."

"Cousin, huh?" Rile looked suspiciously at the two attractive women, dancing closely together. "She from the South or something? Cause I've never danced with any of _my _cousins that way."

"Oh you know…it's a girl thing, Riley," the redhead attempted, waving her hand in the air. "I mean, not like a _girl thing_ like Tara-and-me-thing cause Buffy's not….and neither is…uh Tiffany...but just like girls who are friends. Or cousins, I guess in their case," she continued to babble recklessly. "Not girlfriends, nope. Cause they're related and that's just ick."

The witch flashed her blonde girlfriend a desperate look, silently pleading for help.

Tara flashed a contagious smile at the Iowan boy. "Why don't you sit down with us and wait for them to come back to the table, Riley?" she offered kindly. "I'm sure Buffy and uh, Tiffany will need a drink-break soon."

Riley frowned, his eyes still trained on the two leather-clad blonde women. "No. This can't wait," he grumbled lowly.

The Marine strode away from the seated witches and walked towards the crowded dance floor. He carefully maneuvered his broad body through the masses of dancing teens and co-eds, closer to his girlfriend and her "cousin."

Faith felt her body inadvertently stiffen in anger when she saw the soldier lumbering in their direction. Not missing a beat, she draped her arms casually over the small blonde's slender shoulders and pulled her in closer to her well-disciplined body.

"Don't look now, B," the disguised brunette breathed for only her sister-Slayer to hear, "but your soldier boy is comin' this way."

Buffy groaned under her breath. Leave it to Riley to ruin a perfectly good evening. At least she didn't have to worry about the Marine making a scene about her being at the club with the dark slayer, however. Willow's glamour proved to be a well-timed cover for the Boston girl.

The rogue slayer latched onto a beefy co-ed and danced herself away from the other woman. "Have fuunnnn!" she sing-songed, waving at the Californian.

The blonde felt a strong hand grab her elbow. "I need to talk to you," the Iowan growled into her ear.

"Riley!" she hissed. She turned quickly to face him, dislodging his tight grasp on her arm. Her expressive eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I told you I'd call you."

The corn-fed soldier frowned. "You're in danger, Buffy," he stated coldly.

The California slayer crossed her arms across her chest. "Nothing I can't handle, I'm sure," she responded flippantly above the pounding techno beats. "I'm a Slayer in case you forgot."

"That's the problem," the sandy-haired boy stated animatedly. "The Initiative," he started sternly. "They can't find Faith and so they're coming after you next. It's not safe for you or your cousin right now."

The blonde raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Cousin?"

Riley returned the slayer's confused look. "Willow said that blonde girl over there was your cousin."

"Oh! _That _cousin!" she exclaimed quickly. "Yes. Cousin. Right. Cause we're both blonde. So, yes. Related."

"We need to talk, Buffy," the Iowan insisted.

"In the morning," the blonde countered, setting her jaw hard. She glanced nervously at her sister-Slayer. "I can't exactly be slay-girl when my, uh, _cousin_ is here."

Riley glanced briefly at his girlfriend's "cousin" who continued to grind on an unsuspecting college boy. He frowned before nodding curtly. Perhaps with more civilians in the way, the Initiative would postpone their kidnapping plans. "Fine," he said between gritted teeth. "I'll drop by your dorm room around nine tomorrow morning so we can talk."

Buffy made a face. "I'm, um, going to be staying at my mom's for the next couple of days." Her boyfriend gave her a questioning look. "You know, because of my…my cousin visiting?"

"Oh, right," the soldier nodded, as if suddenly remembering. "When is she leaving?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't know, Riley," the blonde snapped, quickly becoming annoyed with all of his questions.

"Be safe tonight, okay?" he pleaded. "I'm going to try to find out when they're planning on assembling a team, but I'm sure they'll do their best to keep me out of the loop."

"I appreciate you coming to tell me, but really, Riley. I can handle myself," she repeated her earlier assertion. "I've been fighting Evil since I was Sixteen. I've stopped multiple apocalypses _and_ I've destroyed two different high schools," she reminded the soldier. "I'm pretty sure I can handle the United States military."

The two slayers walked back to Revello Drive in silence. After Riley had unexpectedly made his appearance at the Bronze, the elder slayer had lost her interest in dancing. Apologizing to her friends and their partners, Buffy left the small club, the Boston slayer following closely behind.

Faith glanced sideways at her sister-Slayer. The Californian's mood had instantly soured upon her brief encounter with her soldier boyfriend. A small cloud of anger and resentment seemed to hover over the blonde's head as the two women trekked back to the Summers' home.

"So, uh, I guess Red's mojo worked, yeah?" Faith started. "Captain Cardboard didn't know I was there."

Buffy grunted a response, but kept her eyes trained ahead, not looking over at the younger slayer.

The Boston girl kicked at a few rocks as she continued to walk silently alongside the elder slayer. She cleared her throat. "Red and Tara make a pretty cute couple, don't ya think?" she tried again, hoping for some kind of reaction from Buffy. Again, however, the Californian remained uncommunicative.

Faith stopped walking and stood still in the center of the abandoned city street. "Fuck, B," she hollered loudly, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. A few dogs barked in the distance. "Would you just tell me what the hell is going on with you?"

Buffy spun angrily. "Nothing's wrong, okay?" she snapped. "It's nothing I can't handle."

The brunette suddenly seized the smaller woman by her rigid shoulders and shook the girl. "What's wrong, Buffy?" she growled. "Let me help!"

Buffy stared down at the strong hands grasping onto her. "That didn't hurt you?" she asked, more a statement than a question.

Faith looked down at her own clenching hands. "Guess…guess I didn't want to hurt you," she mumbled.

Buffy cast her eyes away, trying to ignore the vulnerable tears she felt stinging her green eyes. She shrugged her way out of Faith's tight grasp. "It's no big deal," she repeated, her voice rasping thickly with unshed emotions. "I've got it."

"Buffy," Faith gently pleaded, her dark eyes searching. "What did Riley say to you?"

The blonde finally met her sister-Slayer's eyes. She bit her lip, hesitating. "The Initiative is coming for me."

"Fuck, Buffy!" Faith exclaimed loudly. Her eyes narrowed as her rage boiled inside. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

Buffy shook her head slowly. "No," she insisted. "They would have come after me sooner or later, despite your escape. I always knew that Maggie Walsh wanted my blood," she spit venomously.

Not wanting to anger the Boston-girl more than she already was, Buffy sighed deeply. "I'm sorry. Let's just go home."

Faith paused for a moment, stuck on the girl's casual use of the word. Home. Is that where she was?

"Come upstairs," Buffy insisted, opening the front door of her mother's house. She lowered her voice to keep from waking up her mom. "Your pajamas are in my room."

Faith scowled. "I don't own pajamas, B."

Buffy smirked at her sister-Slayer's child-like reaction. "You do now, _F_," Buffy countered victoriously. She began the short trek up the staircase to the second floor. "There is to be no sleeping naked on my mother's couch in my mother's living room," the blonde ordered matter-of-factly.

Faith wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Okay, B," she purred, following the blonde and her shapely backside up the carpeted staircase. "How about sleeping naked in _your _bedroom then?"

"Oh shit. I just said that out loud." Faith mentally slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead. She knew that all that daydreaming would bite her in the ass eventually.

The raven-haired woman's outburst seemed to not have alarmed the other woman. Instead, Buffy stopped at the top of the stairs. She cocked her head and looked thoughtfully at the younger slayer. "Faith," the blonde started slowly. "Why did you come back?"

The dark brunette ran her fingers through her long tresses nervously. She stared down at the carpet. "I, uh," she stammered. "I just wanted to make things right, ya know?"

"Yeah...I know," the Californian responded, her voice little more than a thin whisper.

"Thanks for everything, B," the Boston slayer breathed. Her brown eyes seemed even darker in the limited hallway lighting. "You didn't have to help me. You didn't have to save me from that military Hell. But you did," she paused. "So, thank you."

Moved by the younger slayer's awkward thank you, the California girl threw her arms around her for a tight embrace. Faith's body initially stiffened, but she breathed out shakily and accepted the other slayer's hug.

"I'm just glad things are okay between us again," Buffy admitted into the brunette's neck, still hugging the other girl.

When Buffy finally pulled back from the soft embrace she felt her gaze trapped in the dark expanses of the other woman's eyes. The two remained still, Buffy with her arms still thrown around the other woman's neck, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Faith's eyes dilated and her breathing became audibly ragged. Buffy unconsciously licked her own lips as she stared at the Boston woman's pliable mouth.

"Well, uh…goodnight," the blonde whispered, her mouth just inches from the younger slayer's.

The Boston girl grunted in response. She tried to ignore how the proximity to the other girl was affecting her body.

Buffy turned and entered her room, closing the door to her bedroom; but not before flashing the Boston-born slayer one final, shy smile.

Faith turned to go down the stairs. Instead of going to the first floor bathroom and changing into her nightclothes, however, she grabbed her recently purchased leather jacket from the front foyer. There was a fire in her belly that needed squelching. And there was only one way she could guarantee sleeping soundly that night.

Closing the door firmly, yet quietly behind her, Faith hopped down the front steps of the front porch, a little bounce returning to her step.

She was going hunting. And a single chant – a silent promise – repeated in her brain.

"_I'll make you pay."_

TBC


	7. Chapter 6

The vampire stared down at the bound man. The moonlight shone through the broken window of the abandoned factory storehouse reflecting off of the demon's bleach blonde hair and made his pale skin look even more marble-esque than usual.

The gagged man looked up at the undead creature, his eyes bulging in fear. The ancient demon slowly paced in a circle around his potential prey, his lips twisting into a slight leer. He stalked carefully, fluidly, like a jungle predator.

"Don't know what you did to piss her off, son," he chuckled to the captive. "But I'm not complaining."

The man watched in fear as the vampire's face morphed from human to monster in seconds. The helpless victim could only squirm in his chair and sob around the hunk of soiled cloth shoved into his mouth. The metallic chains around his wrists bit into the tender flesh as he struggled uselessly.

The vampire stopped in his pacing and cocked his head to the side. He smiled cruelly at the seated man, drinking in the fear that radiated off his human form. The scent was still intoxicating to the demon even after all his years of creating destruction and mayhem. The undead creature ran the tip of his tongue along his elongated canines and looked up suddenly towards a darkened corner of the room.

"So how do we do this, pet?" he asked into the darkness.

The dark girl stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight. The limited lighting reflected off of her skin giving the mysterious woman an ethereal appearance. She slowly crossed the room and folded her toned arms across her ample chest. "You can have his blood," she rasped thickly, her eyes never leaving the prisoner's face as his eyes flashed from confusion to realization.

He knew this woman. And he knew he would never leave the dilapidated building alive.

Her emotionless face broke into an eerie grin across her pale face. "I want his soul."

**24 Hours Earlier**

The Boston girl inhaled deeply, taking a long pull from the cigarette dangling between her two lips. Patrolling had been a bust – not even a newbie vampire to play with the entire evening. Her body itched with need and unexpended energies. Dancing so close to the blonde slayer had rekindled the fire deep in her belly that had remained dormant for too long, and the unexpected embrace at the top of the staircase had continued to stoke the inferno. The old Faith would have gotten drunk and found someone to fuck in an attempt to smother the internal blaze, but she doubted the Summers women would tolerate the darker slayer's lascivious adventures on their living room couch.

Taking one final drag, Faith flicked her cigarette butt onto the slightly wet concrete and crushed the dying embers with the heavy toe of her chunky boot. She looked up suddenly when the sound of glass shattering in the distance alerted the young slayer to someone's presence nearby. She rolled her shoulders under her leather jacket and smiled to herself as she touched her hand to the wooden stake tucked into the lining of her new coat. Maybe the night wasn't wasted after all.

The Boston slayer felt that familiar tingle down her spine, alerting her to the presence of vampyric or demonic activity. But as the four dark figures lumbered down the abandoned alleyway and closer toward the young slayer, something felt off. As they stumbled closer, clear signs of their intoxication, the brunette woman realized with a shudder that the four figures were not the undead. They were instead the most dangerous animal of all – human.

"Hey there, girlie," one of the large men drunkenly slurred. "Kinda late for you to be out all by yourself, ain't it?"

Faith stood still and remained silent as if afraid that any sudden movement or noise would put her further in harms way.

"Whatsa matter, cutie?" another man leered, stepping closer to the Boston girl. "You too good to talk to us? You stuck up or somethin'?"

The four men stood together, their bodies a formidable brick wall, making the dark slayer's retreat seemingly impossible. The Boston-born slayer began walking backwards, stepping away from the four menacing figures.

A third man flashed the anxious girl a sly grin and continued to close the short distance between himself and the frightened slayer. Faith could smell the alcohol radiating from his noxious body. "Someone oughta teach her some manners, I think."

Faith's dark eyes nervously darted around the dark corners of the alley, looking for something – anything. With nowhere else to turn, with no way to escape, and the ability to fight back destroyed, the Boston girl did the one thing she had sworn she would _never _do in her lifetime.

She screamed for help.

The Boston girl's cries for assistance were cut short when she felt the strong hand clench tightly around her throat, choking off her air. She clawed uselessly at the man's rough skin, her panicked desperation impeding her ability to effectively wrench the hands from her throat.

One of the men chuckled darkly. "We better show this bitch a better way to use that pretty little mouth of hers."

Faith continued to struggle for air. She knew that lashing out at the men would only cause her blinding pain because of the chip in her brain, but she saw no other choice. Mustering all her strength, she cocked her right leg back slightly and swung her knee forward and upward. Her leather-covered kneecap connected solidly with vulnerable flesh, immediately dropping her assailant to the ground. As he fell to his knees, the Boston woman felt the searing pain burn through her brain and she too screamed in pain, grabbing at her head.

"Somebody _shut her up_," the fallen man gasped as he continued to clutch at his groin.

One of the remaining three clomped forward and cracked his clenched fist against the Boston slayer's beautiful face, silencing her screams of pain. Faith fell forward onto the wet pavement from the impact of the sucker punch. She felt the lose gravel bite into her palms as she stopped her fall with her hands.

The three remaining men crowded around the fallen woman, looking anxiously at each other and then back to staring down at the ground at the young girl. No one made a move. Yet. A low growl from a darkened corner startled the three standing men. They simultaneously looked up sharply in the direction of the unexpected noise.

"What the fuck is th—ahhhh!" A dark figure pounced on one of the men, dragging him into the shadows. The sounds of bones snapping and the gurgled cries of human pain filled the air.

"Shit!" one of the remaining two men squeaked as he and his friend scampered away into the night, leaving the others behind.

The mysterious figure stepped out of the shadows. A brisk breeze caused the leather of his black duster to flutter in the wind around him. The remaining assailant attempted to pull himself to his feet despite the lingering pain between his legs.

"Leaving so soon, nancy?" the blonde creature taunted. He grabbed onto the vulnerable man and tossed him through the air causing the goon to crash hard into the side of a metal garbage dumpster. The man's head slumped forward as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Faith looked up and recognized the undead creature. He didn't know who she was – not in this skin at least – but they had encountered each other months ago when the Boston girl had taken over Buffy's body.

"You-you saved me," she gasped in horror and in awe. Why would a vampire protect her against potential rapists?

Spike was breathing hard from the fight although he didn't need air to survive. It was more the product of his intensity, not his lack of conditioning. "I may be a monster," he explained, shrugging. "But I'm not an animal."

He watched as the seemingly vulnerable woman pulled herself off of the damp concrete and brushed at her torn leathers. The blonde vampire eyeballed the curvaceous woman and his stomach rumbled loudly. "All that fightin's got me a tad peckish though," he grinned as he held his hand over his growling stomach.

"I don't think so, _William_." The dark slayer spun in the air, launching a steel-toed boot in the direction of the demon's head. Her heavy boot connected with the vampire's chiseled jaw, sending him crashing into a pile of discarded boxes.

"Fucking Slayer!" he growled, wiping at his bloody lip with the back of his hand. "Fuck," he cursed loudly. "I guess that makes you the _other one._" Spike picked himself up from off of the ground. "I've heard stories about you, little bit," he stated, dusting the gravel from his dark jeans. He looked up at the Boston girl and smiled cruelly. "Thought you were muff divin' in prison though," he mocked, licking the blood from his fingers suggestively.

Faith stared blankly at the British vampire. "I got out," she stated flatly with no other explanation. She absentmindedly fingered the wooden stake inside her jacket.

Spike growled at the dark woman, tensing his shoulders as if preparing for a fight. "What kind of twisted little game are you playing, Slayer? You pretending to be helpless to draw out the _real _nasties? I heard you were the crazy one…" he noted, "but _this_ is even a little bent for the likes of me."

A low moan alerted the two natural enemies. The final assailant remained on the cold gravel, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness. Spike reached down to pick the man up by his dislocated shoulder. The vampire twisted and turned it lose in the man's socket and the human attacker howled in anguish.

"What should I do with this one, love?" Spike drawled. "I'm still hungry," he reminded the girl, licking his lips hungrily as he stared at the writhing would-be-rapist.

Faith looked up, her dark hair falling over her eyes. "Drain him," she whispered hoarsely.

The man's scream ripped through the night sky.

Faith winced when the front door of the Summers' house creaked loudly as if protesting to be opened at such a late hour. After leaving Spike and his victims in the dark alley, the brunette slayer had rushed back to Revello Drive, anxious that someone might notice her absence but also worried that something else might go horribly wrong that night.

The Boston girl crept silently into the foyer and closed the door behind her with a silent click. Faith hopped quietly from one foot to the next as she pulled her thick boots from her feet and discarded them on the rug in the entranceway. She shrugged out of her leather jacket and sighed quietly, eyeballing the living room couch wistfully. At least it was more comfortable than her prison cell.

A voice startled the girl: "Where have you been?"

The dark brunette's body tensed momentarily when she heard the icy accusation lining the blonde slayer's question. Faith looked towards the sound of the voice to see Buffy sitting in her pajamas on the bottom steps of the second floor staircase.

"Couldn't sleep," the Boston girl shrugged. "I went out for an extra patrol."

Buffy stood up from the carpeted stairs and stepped closer to the taller woman. She stared hard at the other girl's face and cocked her head to the side. "What happened to your face?" she asked. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she closely observed the discolored skin around the young slayer's right eye.

"I got attacked," the dark woman stated emotionlessly. The tormented and tortured lines on the Boston girl's face smoothed away and were replaced by a blank canvas of stoicism.

Buffy reached out hesitantly, and she tenderly touched at the brunette's swollen cheekbone. Faith flinched slightly at the unexpected gentle touch. "Well I can see that, Captain Obvious," she mumbled, pressing the back of her fingers lightly against the inflamed and bruised skin. "Vampire or demon?" she asked.

The Boston girl's dark eyes visibly narrowed. "Human."

Buffy dropped her hand to her side. "Human?" she gasped, surprised by the other slayer's answer. "A _human _did this to you?" She clenched and unclenched her fists, feeling her polished nails bite into the palm of her hands. She had known this might happen, but she didn't realize it would happen so soon. Things like this made the blonde slayer pause in her belief that saving the world for human kind was the right thing to do – her sacred duty. But maybe some humans didn't deserve to be saved.

"Don't worry 'bout me, B," Faith grumbled lowly, noticing anger in the elder slayer's eyes. "It'll be gone in the morning," she insisted. She turned her back on her former nemesis and began to walk towards the couch. "I just wanna sleep it off, okay?"

"Upstairs. Now," the blonde commanded. Faith turned her head to look back at the small slayer. Her face looked set and determined, but her hazel-green eyes belied the sternness of her voice, clearly showing the concern she felt for the other girl's wellbeing.

The darker slayer sighed again, exhausted by the day's events and she slumped her shoulders forward in resignation. Obeying the other girl's unwavering command, she carefully padded up the staircase and towards Buffy's room. There was no use arguing with the blonde girl, plus she didn't want to wake up Joyce and have to face her obsessive worrying as well.

The full moon shone in through the thinly curtained windows of the blonde slayer's bedroom. The eerie light illuminated the space where the Boston girl unabashedly peeled off her leather trousers and tight top and haphazardly discarded them onto the floor. Buffy was secretly thankful for the darkness in her bedroom that hid the unexpected blush that crept onto her face as she stared at the undressing girl.

Faith didn't allow her sister-Slayer the opportunity to play Twenty Questions. Wordlessly, she slipped under the blankets on Buffy's bed and turned on her side toward the window and away from the Californian. "Night," she mumbled into the darkness, closing the door on further conversation.

Buffy bit her bottom lip as she stared through the dim lighting in the room and at the back of the Boston girl. Faith still hadn't revealed to her what exactly had happened to her during her captivity at the Initiative and now tonight, she refused to share how she had gotten a black eye. Frustrated with her inability to communicate her concern for the other slayer, Buffy fumbled with the comforter and lowered herself into bed, careful not to let her body brush against the disciplined form of her sister-Slayer.

Faith remained rigid in bed until she heard the even breathing of the woman lying next to her. Sighing quietly, the Boston girl rolled onto her back, being careful not to disturb Buffy's sleep. She stared at the ceiling, finally allowing herself to reflect on the events of that night. She had permitted Spike to kill that man – so what did that mean for her? Was she an accomplice to an innocent person's death or did some individuals deserve to die?

She closed her dark eyes tightly, willing the vivid mental picture of Spike sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of the goon's throat out of her head. She didn't want to think about what had happened in that dark alley. Not yet at least.

But she knew she couldn't continue to live this way – so vulnerable…so helpless. She didn't feel like a Slayer anymore. She felt…like a girl. And there was no way she was going to allow the Initiative, or anyone else, to turn her body into a weapon to be used against herself.

The dark slayer stared in the bathroom mirror and inspected her facial bruises from the previous night. The dark wound had already begun to fade to a dull yellow – nothing that a little cover-up wouldn't conceal.

"Faith!" she heard Joyce's maternal voice call up the stairs. "I made pancakes!"

Faith stampeded down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Joyce and Buffy busily finishing making breakfast. The Boston girl hesitated in the doorframe. The two Summers women looked so happy, so comfortable around each other. She felt a small river of jealousy flow through her veins. This was the type of scene she had always wished to have with her own mother growing up in Boston.

Joyce turned, spatula in hand, and recognized the uncomfortable look that had fallen across the dark slayer's face. "Faith," she smiled kindly. "Have a seat. I made enough to feed an army."

"Or two slayers!" Buffy chirped happily, sitting down at the kitchen island and diving into the pile of pancakes and bacon.

Faith gave the elder Summers woman a thankful smile and slid into her own seat at the raised countertop. She picked up a fork and started to plow through the food in front of her.

The phone jangled loudly, interrupting the comfortable silence of the early morning. Buffy jumped up from her seat at the kitchen island and rushed to answer the phone before its third ring. "Hello?" she breathed into the receiver.

The blonde's smile faded quickly and her eyes darted toward the Boston girl who had begun to push the final remnants of her breakfast around her plate with the tip of her fork. "Uh huh," Buffy mumbled. "Hold on. She's right here."

Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, Buffy looked expectantly at the younger slayer. "Faith," she started, earning herself the attention of the other girl. "It's for you."

Faith's eyes narrowed and she quickly rifled through the limited list of names of those who knew she was currently staying at Buffy's house. She hopped up from the kitchen stool and casually strolled over to the blonde, taking the phone from her outstretched hand.

"Yeah?" she drawled into the receiver.

"Good to know you're still alive," came the rumbling voice.

Faith paused, attaching the voice to a name. Angel.

"Just calling to see how things are going," the perpetually brooding vampire stated. "We just wrapped up that little business in LA…so…" Angel trailed off. He had wanted to drive up to Sunnydale weeks ago to return the dark slayer to Los Angeles, but he knew Faith had her own reasons for needing to be back in the town where everything had gone so terribly wrong.

"I've still got things to do, Angel," Faith announced vaguely. "I'm not done here yet."

Angel sighed into the receiver. "I thought you might say that," he admitted. "Just be careful," the souled vampire warned. "I know how far you've come, but I also know you've still got a ways to go."

The brunette nodded, knowingly. "Yeah, Angel. No worries about me though. Everything's cool here," she insisted.

"I just don't want Sunnydale to get under your skin again," he pressed. "Don't let that town mess you up like last time."

Faith frowned into the phone and glanced over at the blonde girl who was doing her best to look interested in the tall stack of pancakes in front of her rather than eavesdropping on the content of her former lover and the rogue slayer's phone conversation.

The Boston girl raked her fingers through her sleep-tussled locks. She knew what Angel meant. She had told him everything within just a few months of incarceration. They both knew all too well that the city was only a metaphor for the other slayer. And Buffy was always under her skin.

"I'll be careful," she promised the LA-based vampire. "Be in touch," she mumbled before hanging up the phone.

Faith felt the eyes of both women boring into the back of her neck, but she tried to ignore what she knew to be inquisitive looks. When she turned away from the phone and back to face the kitchen island, the Summers women had quickly averted their eyes and were instead busying themselves with the final bites of the early morning meal.

"So, B…." Faith started, breaking up the silence. She teetered back and forth on the balls of her feet expectantly. "What's the plan for today?"

Buffy looked up from her nearly empty plate, her hazel-green eyes suddenly guilty. "I've gotta go to class today," she complained with a sigh. "Can't skip out on school forever, I guess."

Faith nodded silently.

"Will you be okay on your own?" the blonde asked anxiously. "Do you wanna come to campus with me?"

The Boston girl made a face. "No offense, B, but I don't wanna get back into the habit of hanging out at your schools and waiting for you to finish up your stuff."

Buffy gave the dangerous slayer a small, knowing smile. "Fair enough. I'll catch you later though?"

"Count on it, Blondie," the dark girl stated, flashing her deep dimples. Faith turned to the elder of the Summers women. "Thanks for the breakfast, Mrs. S."

"Anytime, sweetie," Joyce smiled as she began clearing the breakfast dishes.

The Boston girl gave her sister-Slayer a sly grin. "I'm gonna shower," she informed the smaller girl.

Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Nuh-uh!" she protested, hopping from her seat to the ground. "I need the bathroom first!"

"Gotta catch me, B!" the dark brunette laughed. Faith spun on her heels and raced up the stairs, fighting the small blonde for position. The taller girl's long legs carried her up the staircase first, and she slid into the bathroom before the blonde huffed up the final stair. The Boston girl gave the blonde slayer a sly smile and a cheeky wink before closing the bathroom door behind her.

Faith chuckled darkly when she heard the other girl's small fists beating against the wooden door. "Faith!" the elder slayer hollered. "You'd better not take forever! I have school!" she whined.

After cleaning up and saying goodbye to both Buffy and her mother, the dark slayer walked along the sparsely populated Sunnydale streets. She felt as though there was an extra bounce to her step. Faith turned sharply into Restville cemetery and followed her Slayer-senses to the front door of the unassuming mausoleum.

"Spike," she called out loudly as she burst through the front entrance of the ancient vampire's crypt. "Put on some pants. We're going hunting."

The previous night had made the dark slayer realize that even though she might not personally be able to harm another human, there were ways around the limitations of the device inside her brain. She suddenly had found purpose – a new goal and reason for being in this cursed town. _Revenge._

"That's him," the dangerous woman rasped to the demon crouched beside her. When she saw the military man walking out of the entrance to the secret military facility, the painful memories flooded back. She closed her eyes momentarily at the intensity of her rage. He was one of the individuals responsible for her captivity. She recognized him as the scientist who had taken vial after vial of her blood.

"I'm not your lap dog, you know that, Slayer?" the ancient vampire growled as his eyes followed the unassuming man.

The Boston girl narrowed her eyes at her undead accomplice. "Behave and I won't kill you, William."

The blonde vampire grimaced, but bit his tongue. He had worked alongside the other slayer years ago to prevent Angelus from destroying the world. This new partnership seemed less noble, but it didn't bother the soulless creature.

The dark slayer knew that she could potentially capture the man to remove the chip in her brain. But she wasn't so much interested in corralling the scientists responsible for her condition to make them reverse the procedure. She was more invested in watching them die a slow and painful death.

Suggested Listening: "Capital G," by Nine Inch Nails

_Well I used to stand for something_

_ But I forgot what that could be_

_ There's a lot of me inside you_

_ Maybe you're afraid to see_

The Boston girl threw her right arm around the cold, marble neck. She tipped her head back and took a long pull from the bottle of beer in her left hand. The music growled around her and she closed her eyes, letting the crunchy industrial chords vibrate off her body as she danced provocatively with the undead man.

Faith felt a strong hand grab onto her elbow and spin her around. She found herself suddenly face-to-face with the blond slayer, her hazel-green eyes flashing in anger.

"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing, Faith?" she demanded, her hands perched on her hips. "I've been trying to find you all day," she complained.

The brunette girl felt the snarl crawl onto her mouth. It was far too easy for her to fall back into her old destructive behaviors. "What's it look like, Princess?" she spat out bitterly. "I'm finding the fun."

Buffy looked appalled. "With-with _him?" _she sputtered, pointing at the soulless vampire.

Spike stalked up behind the Boston girl and slipped his arm around the brunette's slender waist. He nuzzled the space where the woman's neck met her shoulder. "What's wrong, Slayer?" he leered, looking up at the shocked blonde woman. "Jealous you might not be the only Chosen One to get pelvic with the undead?"

Buffy's face blanched. "You-you can't be serious," she whispered. She quickly shut her eyes hard, surprised by the well of emotions threatening to spill out of her tear ducts. The blonde turned on her heels and rushed away before the Boston girl could defend herself.

Faith turned and punched the British vampire in the stomach. The blonde vampire doubled over in pain. "Don't fuckin' mess with me like that, Spike," she growled harshly, glaring down at the undead man. "If I want her to think we're fucking," she snarled, "it'll be _my _idea, not yours."

Spike knew all too well by the brunette's abrupt change in attitude why she didn't want the other slayer thinking they were having sex.

"She'll never love you, Slayer," the vampire gasped, still holding onto his stomach. "That one's broken. She's not capable of loving anyone beside herself – and especially not you. You'll only ever be a killer to her."

Leaving Spike behind, Faith grabbed her leather jacket off of a plush sofa and stormed out of the Bronze. She needed to find something to hit.

TBC


	8. Chapter 7

Buffy slammed the front door of her mother's home on Revello Drive, closing out the outside world. Ignoring the startled look she received from her mother upon her abrupt entrance, the blonde slayer ran up the carpeted stairs towards the second floor and slammed her bedroom door behind her. Collapsing onto her double bed, the golden-haired slayer allowed her body to be consumed by sobs, although she didn't know the cause of her sorrow. Being a slayer had always rendered her life difficult, but lately it seemed as though her entire world was spinning out of control.

Earlier that day she had met up with Riley at the campus coffee shop. The persistent Marine had convinced her that he needed to speak with her about more than just their quickly crumbling relationship. Over coffee and vanilla mochas, the Iowan had revealed the Initiative's plan to capture the California slayer and perform invasive experiments on her, since their studies of Faith had been interrupted and the Boston girl could not be found. Riley begged the blonde woman to leave town for a while until the military lost interest in the Slayer Project. He had even gone so far as to suggest that she go to Los Angeles and stay with Angel and his crew.

Although, unwavering and unblinking, she had dismissed Riley and his adamant warnings, reassuring the corn-fed coed that she could take care of herself, his confession of the military's plans had unsettled her. The Initiative's presence at first had encouraged the Chosen One – perhaps for once she wouldn't feel so alone in the fight against monsters and the undead. But the capture and near torturing of her sister-Slayer had forced the woman to rethink her feelings about both Riley and the secret military operation. Slayers and the military were decidedly _not _fighting the same battle. It was the Slayer's duty to defeat Evil, not modify and study its behavior.

Riley's words had caused her to pause, however. Perhaps it _would_ be best if she left leave Sunnydale for a while. Everyone would certainly be safer without Buffy around – the military at this point seemed more of a threat than vampires and demons. Her mother could be in danger. Her friends. And Faith.

Thinking about her sister-Slayer inevitably brought disturbing images to her mind of the dark slayer dancing provocatively at the Bronze with Spike. Buffy had been sitting at a back table with her friends when she felt that familiar buzz. Vampire. And Faith. When she excused herself from her friends' company to investigate, she was more than shocked at the sight before her.

The two dangerously dark and leather-clad figures danced together as though they were cut from the same cloth. Although the Boston girl looked more interested in the beer in her hand than the undead creature wrapped so intimately around her form, the look in Spikes' eyes scared and horrified the elder slayer. It was a look of such intimacy, lust, and possession that the Californian had been convinced in that moment that the two were far more than strangers who had conveniently met on the dance floor.

And the Chosen One felt surprisingly betrayed.

A tentative knock on her bedroom door caused Buffy to pause her teary lament. She ignored the hesitant knock at first, but sniffled loudly to clear her throat when the rapping continued.

"Mom," she called at the door from her seat on the bed, "I'm sorry, but I'm really not in the mood to talk right now."

Despite her protests, the door slowly creaked open. Buffy was unable to contain the surprised gasp that slipped out from between her lips when she realized the figure standing on the other side of the wooden barrier was not her mom. It was Faith.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" the smaller slayer demanded, wiping uselessly at her nose with the sleeve of her long-sleeved t-shirt. She quickly wiped at her ruined mascara'd eyes and tucked a few loose strands of blonde hair behind her ears.

Faith entered the room slowly, a guilty frown marring her beautiful features. "I swear I'm not fucking him, Buffy," she announced abruptly, holding her hands open near her sides. She walked cautiously towards the center of the room and closer to Buffy. "I wouldn't do that to you," she stated, her voice low and serious.

Buffy's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion from her seat on the bed. "What does _that _mean?" she demanded carefully.

"I just mean…" Faith hesitated, worried she had revealed too much, "…. after all you've done for me since I've been back. I-I wouldn't just go out and, uh, boink some evil vampire."

"Then why were you with him?" the blonde demanded finally. "You two looked awfully cozy together," she pointed out, surprised by the bitter tone her voice had gained.

Faith sighed deeply and held out her hands, palms up as a sign of defeat. "You know how I get when I dance, B. I swear it didn't mean anything though." She gave the woman a lopsided grin. "I dance like that with _you _too, but it doesn't mean _we're_ gettin' horizontal."

Buffy coughed loudly, choking a little on the other girls' words. Noticing her sister-Slayer's discomfort with the subject, Faith smirked, but returned back to the Californian's original question.

"I feel safer with him than I do humans," the Boston teen stated flatly.

Buffy gave her sister-Slayer a quizzical frown. "I still don't understand…" the blonde pouted. "Why would you feel safer with a vampire?"

"Because of the chip," Faith reminded her, tapping at her forehead. "I'm just…helpless around people, B," she sighed. "Those guys in the alley…. If it hadn't been for Spike…"

"He stopped them?" Buffy jumped up from her bed suddenly, unable to hide her surprise.

Faith snorted. "Only so he could drink my blood and kill me himself," she chuckled. Spike was no hero. "He didn't know I was a Slayer. He's never seen me before," she explained. "Plus Willow's magic must've hidden me better than we thought."

Buffy looked momentarily lost in thought. The idea of Spike _saving _Faith made her stomach feel uneasy. The idea of a _vampire _helping a _Slayer _wasn't unsettling by itself – the blonde girl and Spike had certainly worked together before. But more than anything, the Californian was struck by how much _she _wanted to be the person responsible for Faith's safety.

Faith stood awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure of what to do with her hands. Buffy had seemed to blindly accept the reason behind why she and Spike had been caught together at the Bronze. A part of her felt relieved that the blonde girl suspected nothing darker than demon-on-slayer sex, but a larger piece of her conscience screamed at her to tell Buffy the truth.

Finally, she folded her arms across her chest. "Well," she grunted uncomfortably, "I'm gonna get some sleep. It's been a long day." Faith turned to go downstairs, but paused when she felt the warm hand at her elbow.

"Stop," Buffy softly insisted. "Wh-why don't you stay up here with me tonight; I don't like the idea of you being on your own."

The Boston girl's eyes darkened. "You mean you don't trust me on my own." It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.

"No! That's not it at all," the small blonde protested. "It just that you know after…after what happened to you last night," she clarified, weighing her words carefully. "I-I just want to keep you safe." Buffy bit her bottom lip and looked at the other girl from underneath thick eyelashes, causing the dormant butterflies in the brunette's stomach to reawaken.

Buffy grabbed Faith's hands into her own. "We're gonna find a way to get that chip out, Faith," she insisted. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Faith looked hard into the pleading hazel-green eyes and just for a moment, she let herself believe.

Buffy kissed along the slender, jutting hipbones; her own arousal heightened and increased with every whimper and sigh that escaped from the form beneath her. The feminine body writhed and undulated beneath her confident exploration.

Placing a hand on the insides of the soft, creamy thighs, the blonde slayer gently parted her lover's legs. The Californian breathed warm air onto the neatly trimmed hair. She paused momentarily to admire the shape of the delicate folds, the nearly hidden jutting bundle of nerves, and the carefully manicured strip of hair that guided her towards the apex of her attentions.

"Please," her lover implored, unable to contain her own desire.

A small, knowing smile fluttered onto the blonde's pursed lips as she dipped her head closer to her goal. The warm, musky scent was intoxicating and the slayer allowed her senses to drown in the perfume. Keeping one hand on either inner thigh, Buffy tilted forward, inching her tongue closer and closer to the sensitive skin.

When the small blonde's tongue finally made contact, the skin quivered and trembled beneath her touch. Buffy lazily ran the tip of her tongue up and down the complicated folds, drinking in her lover's essence.

"Yes, just like that," the voice encouraged. "God, please…don't stop. Please don't stop."

The golden-haired woman latched her lips around the sensitive clit and suck the small nub of flesh into her mouth, rewarded by the upwards bucking of those dangerously defined hipbones. Long, slender fingers tangled themselves in the blonde's silken strands, pulling her harder and deeper into the mysterious form's desperate sex. The Californian groaned into the soft flesh, causing vibrations to rustle against the sensitive skin.

"Oh God, yes…so close… I'm gonna cum," came the low, husky voice.

The Chosen One thrust her stiffened tongue deep into her lover's pulsing core. Her tongue was immediately rewarded with the addictive taste and texture as she moved in and out of the tightening entrance. Her nose bumped into the woman's clit with each movement forward.

"Buffy!" the voice gasped. "Fuck, I'm cumming!"

Closing her eyes, Buffy continued to thrust her tongue in and out of the throbbing cavern, wanting to prolong her lover's orgasm.

When she felt the body beneath her finally relax, Buffy looked up from her place between the two sculpted thighs and gazed into the depths of her lover's eyes. The dark chocolate irises oozed love and adoration.

Faith reached down and brushed her fingertips along the elder woman's jaw line to wipe away her excess essence.

"That was amazing, B."

Buffy abruptly woke from the carnal dream to find her limbs impossibly tangled around her cotton sheets. In her fitful sleep she had successfully pulled all the covers off of her sister-Slayer as well. The Californian tossed a furtive glance at the girl who slept on her stomach, one leg dangling over the edge of the double bed. Her long, dark tresses hung loose and splayed across the pillow top like the shadow of a halo. Her white tank top had ridden up during the night, and her dark blue boi shorts hovered dangerously low on her backside, revealing the two defined dimples in the small of her back.

Buffy worried her bottom lip as she continued to stare at the sleeping slayer, watching her body rise and fall with each deep, restful breath. The Californian had certainly experienced dreams in which the Boston girl played a key role, but this was the first time Faith had starred in _that _kind of scenario. Gingerly, so as not to disturb her bed-partner's deep slumber, the blonde slayer shimmied out of her bed and made her way down to the kitchen in search of caffeine.

The blonde girl rummaged through the kitchen cabinets in search of breakfast. Giving up on finding her mother's coffee-bean grinder, however, the blonde turned to more immediate needs. The ache between her thighs was undeniable. The unexpected dream about her sister-Slayer had left her surprisingly wound-up and on edge. _"Maybe I could…" _she mused to herself as her right hand instinctively slid down the front of her flannel pajama pants.

The girl groaned quietly, surprised by how wet she was already. Her nimble fingers slid over the smooth, shaved skin of her mons and lower still to her dripping slit. Buffy bit her bottom lip, stifling another moan as she slid one long digit into her ready sex. Her palm rubbed deliciously against her hard clit. Her breath hitched in her throat as she pulled the single finger all the way out of her pussy and rubbed her juices across the protruding flesh of her clit.

Grasping the kitchen counter with one hand to steady herself, the small slayer slid another finger back into her warm pussy. She closed her eyes and whimpered quietly when she heard the wet click of her sex. Her knees buckled slightly as she thrust up harder and deeper into her hot core.

The phone rang loudly in the kitchen, jarring Buffy from her foggy mindset. Her hand flew out of her pants and she nearly yanked the cordless phone off of the wall in her rush to silence the offending machine. "Hello?" she rasped, her voice surprisingly husky.

"Buffy," came the male voice, curt and clipped, the result of numerous years in the military. The slayer sighed into the receiver. _Of course_ Riley would have the unfortunate timing of interrupting her wandering hands.

"A number of our scientists were found dead this morning," the Iowan continued crisply. "All of the blood had been drained from him."

"Vampire?" Buffy asked, stifling a yawn. She rubbed at her eyes, dislodging some of the sleep that had accumulated over the night.

"Or Faith," Riley countered coolly.

"What?" Buffy shrilly yelled into the cordless receiver. "How could you even suggest that? It couldn't be Faith," the girl insisted. "She…_has a chip in her brain, but I can't tell Riley that I know because then he'll think that I've been in contact with her…_.'s not in Sunnydale."

The Marine sighed. "I suppose you're right. Plus she…_can't hurt humans because of the behavior modifier in her brain_…would never be smart enough to track down our scientists."

Buffy scowled at the boy's words. Faith was so much smarter than people gave her credit for. Why couldn't anyone realize that?

"Have you thought any more about my suggestion?" Riley continued when his girlfriend remained silent. "About leaving Sunnydale for a little while?"

"I'm fine, Riley," the blonde grumbled into the phone. "Really – I have to go," she clipped. "Busy day today."

Without waiting for a "goodbye," Buffy hung up the phone in the kitchen. Avoiding the Marine was becoming increasingly harder, but she knew he was only trying to help her now that the Initiative seemed to be after her rather than the Boston girl. But Buffy didn't know how much longer she could continue the charade that their relationship was as solid as it had once been before. She pressed her forehead against the cool plastic of the walled receiver and released a quiet sigh.

"You okay, girlfriend?" came a low, sultry voice.

Buffy looked up to see Faith padding carefully into the kitchen, still wearing only the white a-frame tank top and deliciously tight boi shorts. The other girl's lack of dress momentarily distracted the Californian. The muscles of Faith's upper thighs tensed and quivered slightly as she continued to stalk closer.

There was something about the way the dark slayer moved that reminded the elder girl of a panther or a cougar. She had always been wild and unkempt, but since her incarceration she exuded a quiet danger. Buffy felt the other girl's appreciative dark chocolate eyes on her and in that moment she knew exactly how a jungle cat's prey felt.

"Who was that?" Faith asked lightly, dislodging the blonde from her uncharacteristic musings.

"Riley," the elder slayer mumbled the name uncomfortably.

The Boston girl's easy smile was quickly replaced by a frown. She crossed her bare arms across her ample chest, accentuating her cleavage. "And what did Captain America want?" she questioned sourly.

Buffy hated to see the younger slayer's blinding smile disappear so quickly, so she dismissed the subject of the phone call rather than expounding. "Don't worry, Faith," she insisted. "It's nothing."

The Boston girl raised an eyebrow, doubting the "nothingness" of Riley's call. But not wanting to push Buffy too much, so soon after their reconciliation, she let it go.

"Wanna grab some lunch?" Buffy asked with a half smile. "I've got some quick errands to do, but I thought maybe you might like to go out for a change instead of hanging out here and eating sandwiches."

Faith looked suddenly nervous. "I dunno, B," she hesitated, looking uncomfortable as she shuffled her bare feet around on the kitchen floor. "Without Red's mojo…the glamour…."

Buffy instinctively reached for the other girl's hands and gave the Boston woman a warm, genuine smile. "Don't worry about that. I'll keep you safe, Fai," she breathed. "I promise."

Buffy burst through the doors of the out of the way crypt. The metallic doors screamed on their rusting hinges from the severity of the blast.

"Spike!" she called out shrilly, her voice echoing in the dark, confined space.

The bleach-blonde vampire appeared, slowly climbing up from the underground portion of his dusty home.

"Slayer," he grumbled, pulling himself up to the ground level. "Should give a man more of a heads up," he purred, walking barefoot in dark jeans and an unbuttoned shirt. "Would have given me the opportunity to clean the place up a bit." The soulless vampire stalked closer toward the girl, casually buttoning up the front of his red dress shirt, covering his marbled chest.

"Save it, Spike," the blonde coolly growled, her hazel-green eyes severely narrowing. "What do you know about a handful of military men being drained? Some new vamp in town that's got a sweet tooth for Marines?"

"What's this with Slayers needin' my help lately?" the demon quipped, smirking at the blonde. "I think I should be gettin' more from this deal than just your undying gratitude." The undead creature smiled cruelly, eyeballing the small slayer's lithe form.

"Don't waste my time," the blonde snapped, folding her arms across her chest. "Do you have any information for me or not?"

Spike snorted and turned his back on the slayer, dismissing her as he began to walk away. "I'm not the one you should be askin', Pet," he stated. "Maybe you should be quizzing _the other _Slayer."

"I'm not here to talk about Faith," the golden-haired slayer snarled. "She's none of your business."

The blonde vampire spun around suddenly. "She came lookin' for _me_," Spike protested, his voice raising a few octaves. "Did she tell you _that_,Slayer? Your little girlfriend's not so reformed as she pretends to be."

"Spike," the blonde slayer stated slowly through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to kill you because you saved Faith from those men." She balled up her fists by her sides to control her anger. "But if you _ever _go near her again," she warned menacingly. "I _will _kill you."

The golden-haired woman turned on her heels and burst out of the dilapidated crypt and back into the light of day.

"I always wondered how you could eat so much and never gain a pound," the slender blonde lamented to her partner as she crossed the threshold to her mother's house. "I mean, I'm a Slayer too, but I can't eat like a garbage disposal," she quipped.

Faith gave the smaller slayer a mischievous grin. "I'd tell ya the secret, B," she started, wiggling her eyebrows. "But the answer might make ya blush."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at the Boston girl. "I'm not a prude, ya know," she complained, huffing a little as she walked away from the taller girl.

The dangerous slayer smirked at her blonde counterpart and allowed her eyes to follow the blonde's pert backside as it maneuvered across the dining room. "Ya might not be a prude, Twinkie. But you're certainly not as perverted as me," she winked.

Ignoring the other woman's easy banter, Buffy entered the kitchen to put her leftovers away in the refrigerator. Faith had easily tucked away twice as much food during their late lunch together. Eyeballing the younger slayer's athletic form made the blonde woman wonder where exactly all that food went to.

Faith followed the other girl closely into the back room and picked up a note from the kitchen counter. Her eyes scanned over the note briefly. "Your mom's at the gallery all evening, B," the Boston girl read. "Looks like it's just gonna be the two of us tonight," she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows some more.

Closing the refrigerator door, Buffy groaned. "Great," she mockingly complained as she leaned against the solid appliance. "I'm gonna go bankrupt trying to feed you."

Faith stepped dangerously close to the small woman, her dark eyes flashing. "I know something I could feast on for hours that won't cost you a thing," she murmured seductively.

The sound of glass shattering startled and alerted the two slayers. Half a dozen dark figures broke through the front windows in the living room in the front half of the house and broke through the front entryway. Both women's bodies immediately morphed into fighting positions as they found themselves being suddenly invaded by masked figures.

Quickly realizing they were outnumbered, especially because the dark slayer wouldn't be able to effectively fight against other humans, Buffy pointed towards the stairs. "Upstairs!" she yelled at Faith. "Now!"

With little hesitation, the two girls bounded up the staircase to the second floor and Buffy quickly locked her bedroom door behind them. Rushing over to her window, she looked outside to discover that her house was surrounded by unmarked black SUVs. "Fuck," she swore under her breath. "My mom's _so _not going to be happy about this."

"So what's the plan, B?" the brunette woman asked suddenly. She stood in the center of the bedroom with her hands placed expectantly on her hips. "We shove you dresser in front of the door and hope for those military bastards to just get bored and leave?"

Buffy turned away from her bedroom window to pick up the receiver of her bedroom telephone. "No…I'll…I'll call for help," she stammered, glancing up quickly at the rogue slayer. "I'll call Giles," she stated shakily. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the familiar number. "I can't fight them all."

The blonde girl suddenly fell forward onto the carpeted floor when she felt the heavy, blunt object strike the back of her head. Buffy slowly rolled onto her back and groaned lowly. She could just make out the hazy form of her sister-Slayer hovering above her crumpled body. The Boston girl stared down at her, strangely unaffected by the chip, holding onto a cumbersome axe.

"Sorry, B," the dark girl mumbled thickly, dropping the weapon to the floor. "Can't let you play the hero this time."

The Boston girl hung up the receiver and pulled the blonde's nearly unconscious body into her untidy closet. Luckily the girl's body was small and closet large. Even though Buffy didn't live full-time at her mother's house anymore, the contents of her closet gave no indication that she had ever moved out. Giving the fallen slayer one final look, Faith closed the closet.

Faith's eyes flew to the closed bedroom door when she heard the soldiers beginning to smash the wooden obstacle. A low rumble escaped from her throat and her body tensed, even though she knew this wasn't about a battle. The chip in her brain wouldn't allow it. This was about getting the Initiative as far away from Buffy as possible.

Faith yanked the bedroom door open, nearly pulling the door from its hinges. The unexpected action caused the group of masked men in the cramped hallway to momentarily pause.

"I hear you've been looking for me," the rogue slayer purred as she stood just within the doorframe of the blonde girl's bedroom. Although the teen was frightened and unconvinced she was doing the right thing, she didn't let her captors know. "Makes a girl feel all tingly on the inside," she grinned wildly. "The only thing I ever wanted outta life was to feel wanted. Guess I shoulda been more specific."

TBC


	9. Chapter 8

The Initiative's soldiers quickly regained their composure and trained their stun guns on the body of the evasive slayer.

"Wish I could stay boys," she winked, blowing them a quick kiss. "But today's not the day Faith Lehane gets put in a cage."

Faith turned on her heels, and using her long legs to propel her quickly across the room, she threw herself out Buffy's – thankfully open – bedroom window. The Boston girl slid down the roof belly-first, the tiles cutting into her stomach. She awkwardly rolled off the edge of the two-story house, falling straight down and hard onto the lawn below.

"Woah," came the mildly impressed and stunned voice.

Faith groaned loudly and rolled onto her back. Dried leaves were caught in her hair. "Xander!" the rogue slayer hollered, holding her right arm gingerly. "Back in the car!"

The college bartender hesitated only momentarily before scrambling back to the driver's side of his parents' Buick. He looked up at the bedroom window from where the dark slayer had catapulted, and saw the horde of black masked men peering through the opening.

"Oh shit," he mumbled under his breath, struggling to yank open the driver's side door. Sliding into the car, he turned the key in the crank and revved the engine.

Faith picked herself up from the ground and limped over to the used car, silently hoping Xander's tin can-mobile could outrun the government agents. The brunette girl hesitated for a moment outside of the passenger side of the escape vehicle – every second, a wasted moment.

"Faith?" Xander yelled expectantly from his position behind the driver's wheel. The boy's face looked damp with nervous perspiration.

Faith turned and hobbled quickly to the large black SUVs. Xander tapped his fingers nervously against the solid steeling wheel as he watched the dark haired girl bend at the waist and pull something silver from one of her heavy black boots. A knife.

Making quick work with her switchblade, the dangerous slayer slashed the tires on the military unmarked cars. The masked men burst out of the Summers home finally, having reorganized their force-team. Seeing the rogue woman crawl into the backseat of the nondescript civilian car, the men jumped into their own vehicles.

"Go, Xander!" the Boston girl shouted. The tires spun rapidly, kicking up the small amount of gravel on Revello Drive.

The government's own black vehicles quickly rolled to a stop just beyond the Summers' driveway when the drivers of each SUV discovered their cars' tires were no longer inflated.

Taking advantage of the Initiative's immobility, Xander drove wildly down the nearly deserted streets and flew past the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign.

"Keep driving south, Xander," the battered woman rasped from her lounging position in the backseat. She shifted her body to find a comfortable spot on the vinyl seating, her rough jeans making the material squeak under her slight weight.

Xander cast a furtive glance in the backseat and then back up to his rearview mirror. He breathed a small sigh of relief, feeling his body relax the longer they drove and the more distance they put between themselves and Sunnydale.

When Buffy regained consciousness, darkness rushed into her hazel-green eyes and her nostrils were filled with the scent of old shoes. The blonde groaned loudly from her awkward position on the floor of the closet. Her head throbbed as though she had drunk far too much alcohol the previous night. She knew the pain in her cranium had nothing to do with late night frivolity, however. The culprit was a dangerous, dark-eyed slayer.

Buffy shoved the wooden shutters of her clothes closet open and pulled herself out of the darkened space. She groaned when the bright sunlight of the afternoon hit her sensitive eyes. A female voice downstairs forced the Californian girl to shake the cobwebs from her brain and become more alert. She quickly left her bedroom and raced down the carpeted stairs, expecting to find the carnage of broken glass and splintered wood that the Initiative had left behind. But instead, she found her house meticulously clean, windows intact, and her redheaded best friend standing in the foyer.

"I knocked," Willow explained sheepishly, her pale face tinting slightly pink. "I got worried waiting outside since I know you're all locked up with…" she coughed uncomfortably. "With, uh, Faith," she finished.

Buffy blinked a few times at her Wiccan friend and continued to look around at the main floor of her mother's house with a mixed look of amazement and confusion. The living room windows, which had been shattered by flying bodies, were now inexplicably repaired. Furniture had been up-righted and she thought that even the carpeting looked freshly vacuumed. "I don't understand…" she murmured to herself.

"Where is she anyway?" Willow babbled on, not noticing the perplexed look on the blonde's face.

Buffy touched the back of her head and felt the knot there, as if worried that everything had been a dream. Maybe she had imagined the entire disaster. But the wound on her head certainly _felt _real.

"You don't have to go back to Sunnydale, but you can't stay here."

Faith burst through the front entrance of the Hyperion and looked around the impressive lobby for signs of life….or the soul-ed undead.

"So what," Xander complained loudly, following the girl inside the building. "I'm just a ride to you?" The high school graduate shoved his hands deep in his jean pockets and frowned fiercely.

Faith turned to look behind her shoulder at the scowling man and gave him a smirk. "Your word choice makes it just _so easy_, Xand," she grinned.

The brown-haired boy's face fell into a deeper scowl, realizing his mistake. The Boston girl somehow always found a way to remind him of their brief sexual encounter and his….short comings.

"It's dangerous, X-man," the brunette stated flatly. She stopped to face the boy and crossed her hands across her tank-topped chest.

"And like I'm not exposed to danger in Sunnydale everyday?" he squeaked in response, waving his hands animatedly.

"Listen, okay?" the dark-haired slayer started darkly, holding up a hand. "They weren't after _me_," Faith finally admitted. The brunette girl turned away from the young man and walked toward a window. She moved the heavy drapes to the side and peered through one of the hotel's front windows.

Xander stood in silence to allow the young slayer a chance to finish her thoughts.

Faith remained silent for a moment before continuing. "Buffy didn't want you guys to know – she didn't want you to worry about her. But," she took a deep breath. "The Initiative gave up looking for me. Figured I was a lost cause," she continued. "So they're after _her _now."

Xander's jaw dropped. "What? No way!" he protested. "Riley_ loves _her. He would never allow them to -."

Faith spun on her heels, turning away from the window and back towards the college bartender. Her dark eyes flashed in anger at the mention of the Iowan's name. "You think one lousy Beefstick is gonna stop that fucked up operation?" Her voice cracked with feeling. "No way is Riley capable of protecting her. Xander, you need to go back and warn everyone," she insisted. The slayer's face fell slightly and she cast her chocolate-colored eyes off to the side, dejectedly. "You guys need to protect her from those military bastards…since I can't."

"Where's Buffy now?" the dark-haired boy asked softly, hoping to stem the Boston girl's angry outburst.

Faith scratched at the back of her neck anxiously. "Last time I saw Blondie, I was stuffing her into her bedroom closet."

Xander blinked at the dark slayer. "Uh wha?"

The two spun when they heard a cough from the stairwell leading down into the office's basement. Angel stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in dark dress pants and a loose purple dress shirt. He didn't appear surprised to see the two out-of-towners unexpectedly standing in his Los Angeles office.

Faith flashed a brief smile of greeting at the souled vampire. "I was just telling Xander he needs to go back to Sunnydale."

Angel cocked an eyebrow and looked between the two demon-fighters. "Does he?" he asked simply.

Sending Xander back to Sunnydale was not just a struggle over her own independence. In fact, she didn't really mind the boy's company. However, she didn't want to leave Buffy alone with one less ally, albeit a super-powerless teenager. But not wanting to let the vampire know she had put Buffy in danger – again– at least not in front of Xander, Faith merely nodded for now. "No room in the Inn, Xand-man," she explained vaguely.

"No _room_?" Xander laughed. "This place has like a _hundred _rooms."

Angel continued to look perplexed. "She's actually right," the vampire interrupted slowly, stroking at his chin in thought. "I _do _only have the one bed in the basement currently. All the other rooms are being cleaned. It appears we have rats."

Faith beamed from her unexpected victory and gave the boy a cheeky grin. "Unless you want to bunk with Cordelia at her apartment?"

Xander's eyes went wide at the suggestion. "Back to Sunnydale I go."

"I don't understand, Buffy. Why can't we just go to the police?"

"And tell them what, Mom?" Buffy's voice cracked as she attempted to keep herself from becoming too hysterical over the unknown Fate of the Boston girl. "That some clandestine military operation that also happens to hunt demons has captured Faith, who just happens to have super-human strength only they've put a chip inside her brain that makes her defenseless against other humans?"

Joyce frowned at her daughter's reaction. After spending the day at the gallery, the woman had returned to her home on Revello drive to find Willow attempting to comfort her distraught daughter. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but she had managed to pull out from between the sobs that Faith was missing – again.

The kitchen phone rang suddenly and Buffy bounded toward it, nearly ripping the cordless phone's cradle from the wall as she answered the call.

"Hello?" she rushed into the receiver.

"Thought you'd wanna know where the rogue slayer is," came a deep voice.

Buffy pulled the phone tighter to her ear. "Xander? Where are you? Where is she?" she demanded.

"I-uh," stuttered the voice, suddenly nervous. "I came over to your house and saw Faith fall off your roof, running from those Initiative guys. I _swear _I didn't know she stuffed you in your closet, Buffy. If I had known…Just please don't hurt me – I like all my appendages where they are."

"Where is she now?" Buffy growled lowly into the phone, clenching onto the receiver tightly.

"I drove her to Los Angeles," the teen admitted sheepishly. "She's with Angel at his office."

Without another word to the boy, Buffy hung up the phone.

"That was Xander?" Willow asked from her seat at the kitchen island.

Buffy nodded wordlessly.

"He has news about Faith?" Joyce asked, the concern apparent in her maternal voice.

Buffy nodded again.

"And?" both Willow and Joyce demanded impatiently.

"And I'm going to LA," Buffy said firmly.

"I have news about the Slayer, Ma'am."

Maggie Walsh glanced up from her desktop computer. "Go ahead, Soldier," she instructed coldly.

"Intelligence indicates that Buffy Summers used her mother's credit card to purchase a Greyhound ticket for a bus that departed half an hour ago for Los Angeles."

"And why wasn't she caught half an hour ago when this happened?" barked the small woman from behind her desk.

The stiff-standing soldier winced slightly. "It appears as though someone hacked our system to delay the warning."

The small scientist stood up abruptly from her chair. "Someone on the inside?" she demanded, her deep voice on edge. "Was it Riley Finn?"

"No, Ma'am," the Marine clipped. "We've traced the computer's IP signal back to the Summers' address. It's a Macbook registered to a Willow Rosenberg."

Maggie Walsh slammed her small fist down on the wooden desk, causing a hollow thud to echo in the sterile room.

"Damn that girl," the small woman complained loudly. "What about the other one?" she demanded. "Any information on the Lehane girl?"

The muscles in the stoical soldier's jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth together. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. There's been no sign of her since she evaded our task team at the Summers' home."

Maggie Walsh flopped down hard on her office chair and ran her hands through her short-cropped hair. "Assemble a team," she rasped tiredly. "You're going to LA."

The yellow taxicab pulled up to the menacing building. The blonde Californian climbed out of the backseat and shouldered her bag as she stepped onto the curb. The driver leaned out the driver-side window.

"You sure this is the place, Miss?" he tried helpfully. "I can always bring ya back to a Days Inn or something. This is a kinda rough parta tha city."

Buffy glanced back briefly at the driver and then back towards the multi-storied building. Stenciled on the outline of the first-floor entrance was the outline of an angel.

"This is the place, thanks," she stated confidently. "I'll be fine."

The slayer pushed through the front doors of the abandoned hotel and nearly jumped backwards when she heard the small bell above the door jangle with her entrance. She glanced quickly around the open foyer, looking for any familiar faces. The main floor appeared abandoned.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing around her.

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip, worried that perhaps the Initiative had ransacked the hotel and its occupants before she could make it to Los Angeles in time. Throwing caution to the wind, she bounded down the stairs to Angel's bedroom basement, hoping to find someone – anyone – who might know the whereabouts of the young Boston girl.

"Buffy!" came a shocked, masculine voice.

The Californian's head snapped up from staring down at the staircase as she descended to find the owner of the surprised voice.

"Angel!" she exclaimed. The souled vampire sat on an overstuffed couch in the center of the basement apartment.

Buffy dropped her bag on the ground near the bottom of the stairwell and began to quickly cross the short distance between herself and the seated undead demon. "Where's Faith?" she breathed. "She's in trouble."

"Never knew you cared so much, Blondie," came a deep husk from the corner of the apartment. Faith exited the single bathroom, her hair down and damp, her lithe body barely covered with a thin cotton towel.

Buffy's eyes first flashed wide at the sight of Faith so casually draped in a wet towel – in Angel's apartment – and then narrowed as her stoical words sunk in.

"Of course I care, Faith!" she protested, throwing her hands up in the air, exasperated. "What did you think all of that was? Me saving you from the Initiative and bringing you home to my mom's house? All just for show? All just some game?"

Faith's eyes darkened and she dropped her gaze guiltily. "I'm sorry, B. It's just…. habit I guess to be cynical."

"And where do you get off bashing me over the head and stuffing me in a closet?" the blonde squeaked indignantly. "You're in no shape to be fighting off the Initiative by yourself. I'm supposed to protect_ you._"

Angel glanced wordlessly back and forth between the two slayers. "I'm going to leave you two to talk." He stared purposefully at Faith, who refused to meet his gaze. "I'll be around, but I'm gonna stay out of the way until you two figure this thing out. I don't want a repeat performance of the last time you two were in Los Angeles at the same time, though."

This time Buffy averted her gaze and blushed deeply. It had become an almost predictable ritual for her to show up in Los Angeles to berate the Boston girl before ever giving her the chance to explain.

"And don't worry about a place to sleep," Angel continued. "You two can have the run of the basement for as long as it takes."

Buffy opened her mouth as if to protest.

"Don't worry about me, Buffy," Angel insisted. "I'm sure there's a spare coffin somewhere in this city," he joked lamely.

"Older, and strangely still not any funnier," the blonde girl quipped.

Angel gave his former girlfriend a small smile. "Behave you two," he instructed in a paternal tone. He glanced at Buffy. "I mean it."

The ancient demon began to climb the basement stairs and silently slipped away, leaving the two awkward girls behind.

"So we're supposed to talk?" Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "What have you been telling Angel that you haven't told me, Faith?" Her bottom lip stuck out slightly in a mild pout. "I thought after all we've been through together lately you would trust me."

Faith sat down on the edge of Angel's double bed, still wrapped tightly in a bath towel. She absentmindedly combed through her curly tresses with her fingers.

"It's different, B," she started softly. "There's just some things…I'm not ready to admit to you. Not yet, at least."

Buffy sat down on the couch facing the double bed. Her eyes became inadvertently drawn to the few droplets of water that had escaped from the tips of the brunette's damp hair and now slowly wandered down the expanse of her toned olive-tinted arms.

"So if we're not going to talk," Buffy began, hesitantly as she unconsciously licked her lips. "What do you suggest we do instead?"

"Well, B," the brunette sat up straighter on the bed at the open-ended question. "You're kinda on my turf now, I guess." Faith gave her sister-Slayer a mischievous grin. "You ready to let your hair down?"

Suggested listening: "Supermassive Black Hole" – Muse

The Boston girl's dark hair whipped behind her, the inertia from the black motorcycle causing her long tresses to flow in the wind. She pulled back on the throttle and grinned to herself when she felt the small, feminine hands immediately tighten their hold around her slender, leather encased waist. The two slayers zipped through the crowded Los Angeles streets, Faith expertly weaving the bike between cars and maneuvering seamlessly around pedestrian obstacles.

"I can't believe Angel let me borrow this sweet ride!" Faith yelled back at her sister-Slayer.

"I can't believe you convinced me to ride of this thing!" the blonde girl hollered in response over the rushing wind.

The street lamps and neon lights looked like bright blurs as the bike raced through the city. Reaching their final destination, the dark slayer brought the motorcycle to a sideways halt. She turned the bike off and patted at the clenched fingers still tight around her stomach.

"You can let go now, B," the former convict chuckled. The Californian's grip immediately relaxed and the younger woman smiled wistfully, fully aware that she preferred the blonde's hands on her body, even if only to keep her from flying off of a speeding motorbike.

Faith dismounted the chrome and black wheeled-biped and smirked when she saw her elder counterpart's approving stare. "I told ya I'd bring ya to the hottest club, B," Faith grinned, showing off her deep dimples.

The blonde continued to gawk at the flashing paparazzi bulbs, red velvet ropes, and valet parking. Faith tossed the keys to the bike toward a pimple-faced teen in a red vest. "Don't mess the wax," she growled at the young valet.

Buffy continued to stand awestruck in front of the posh-looking club. She had lived in Los Angeles before, but a lot had changed in the handful of years since she had moved to Sunnydale.

"C'mon, B," Faith urged, grabbing tight onto Buffy's hand. "Stop lookin' like a tourist. You're burnin' the night oil. We gotta live up these free nights while we can, ya know?"

Ignoring the string of expletives and slurs thrown their way from the other waiting patrons, Faith wiggled herself and the elder slayer to the front of the line. Faith batted her thickly mascara'd eyelashes at the burly man standing guard at the front entrance. His beefy hands clenched onto a metal clipboard. "You on the list?" came the deep, rumbling voice.

"Don't need a list when you've got a body like this, baby," she rasped huskily.

The bald, broad-chested man looked less than interested. Living and working in Hollywood had jaded him to the overt charms of attractive women. He waved a hand at the two girls. "Back in line," he barked. "If you're not on the list, then you don't get in."

The Boston girl felt the slight blush of embarrassment creep uncomfortably on her face. She had never had trouble getting into a crowded club before and tonight wasn't going to be the first. Faith grabbed roughly onto Buffy's hand and led her away from the front entrance. "Dude's gotta be gay,"she grumbled inaudibly as she shoved her way angrily through the line of waiting wannabes.

Buffy tugged nervously at her elbow, causing the Boston girl to momentarily pause in her angry exit. "It's okay, Fai," the blonde breathed, tucking an errant strand of blonde silk behind an ear. "We don't have to go clubbing tonight," she insisted. "We could go back to Angel's? Maybe talk?"

Faith ran her fingers through her wavy hair and looked from the blonde back to the front entrance of the club. "Dunno, B," she mumbled uncomfortably, still rattled by the bouncer's uncharacteristic rejection. "Not much of a talker."

"C'mon," the small slayer insisted, taking one of the brunette's hands into her own. She intertwined their fingers and began to pull the Boston girl back towards the parked motorcycle. "It'll be like a good ol' fashioned sleepover," she winked playfully. "Maybe I'll even get to braid your hair."

The two girls quietly descended the office stairs into Angel's basement apartment. They both eyeballed the solitary double bed.

Faith coughed anxiously to break up the silence. Although Buffy had suggested a girls-night-in, she wasn't quite so eager to be spilling her guts out to the elder blonde just yet. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. "Gotta admit, B," she sighed, continuing to stretch. "I'm kinda tired. Lots of excitement the past few days, ya know?"

The elder slayer's face fell slightly in disappointed, but she nodded. "I guess you're right. It is kinda late."

Faith felt her body relax, having dodged a verbal bullet at least for another night. "I know where he keeps extra sheets," the Boston girl noted, walking toward the bathroom. "I'll, uh, take the couch, B. You can have the bed."

"Don't be ridiculous," the California girl countered, stopping the younger girl's retreat. "We managed to sleep in the same bed at my mom's house without getting too drool-y, so why not at Angels?"

Faith raised an eyebrow and looked at her sister-Slayer with an amused smile on her lips. "Drool-y, B?" she asked.

The blonde girl gave her darker counterpart a half-smile and slightly blushed from embarrassment. "So what if my Beauty Sleep doesn't look so beautiful?" she shrugged.

Faith felt her hands and body moving of their own accord. She reached out, slowly, but steadily and cupped the small Californian's chin, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. "Don't let anyone ever tell you that anything you do isn't beautiful, B," she softly rasped.

Faith leaned over the kitchenette countertop and leafed through the newspaper, not really interested in its contents, but needing something to do with her hands while the coffee brewed in the small coffee machine on the countertop. The Boston girl felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she became aware of the creeping presence of a vampire entering the disorganized office kitchen.

"Angel," she murmured a greeting, just loud enough for him to hear. She didn't bother to look up from the newspaper, however.

"Anything good?" the souled vampire asked as he glided past the girl and towards the refrigerator.

Faith looked up from the newspaper finally. "Just more of the same, Fang-boy," she smiled lazily. "Death, chaos, and mayhem – and that's just the gossip column."

"How was your night?" the perfectly coifed undead man asked as he rummaged through the icebox for a container of blood.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly, hoping the slight blush wasn't visible in the indirect sunlight. "Was fine," she breezed. "We danced, had a few drinks…." the girl trailed off, not wanting to admit defeat even to the souled vampire.

Faith made a face as she watched the vampire stab a blood bag with a bendy straw from one of the kitchenette cabinets. "Cute, Angel," she smirked. "It's like your own O-positive Capri Sun."

The LA-based vampire smiled around the white straw. "Pretty ingenious, right? Cordie came up with the idea." He paused and looked momentarily thoughtful. "Actually, she might have been joking about it, now that I think about it." The undead man shrugged. "Oh well," he mused, "it works for me."

The Boston girl maneuvered her way around the bulky vampire to pour herself a cup of black coffee. Faith leaned her backside against the small office countertop and inhaled the scent of the ground beans.

Angel cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his gelled spikes. Sensing the brooding vampire wanted to broach a sensitive topic, the dark slayer helped her savior out. "Out with it, Angel," she stated gruffly, not looking up from the mug of coffee cupped between her two hands. "Whatever it is you've got to say to me or ask me, go ahead."

"Did you tell her yet?" he asked vaguely, but the girl knew exactly to what he was referring. When the Boston girl had initially arrived at the vampire's Los Angeles office, she had revealed to him everything that had happened in Sunnydale –_ everything, _including her regression to the dark side when she fed those men to Spike.

The woman's dark eyes clouded over. "No," she rasped thickly, the one-syllable-word getting stuck in the husk of her voice. "I-I don't know how to, Angel." Faith closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. "We've come so far – B and me – making amends, working together…maybe…maybe even being friends," she ventured. "I just can't ruin that all by admitting what I did."

Angel placed a sympathetic and reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder. "I understand, Faith," he stated slowly and somberly. "But you know how I feel about this – you can't atone for your past actions without first admitting them. And it doesn't count if you tell me. I'm just a shadow."

"Why do you two always look so chummy when I walk into a room? At least one of you isn't in a towel this time."

The two dark figures – one slayer, one vampire – looked up abruptly to see the source of the mocking tone.

"Buffy," Faith breathed, feeling her face go red.

Although having just woken up, her hair tossed up in a haphazard ponytail and the previous night's eyeliner still shadowing her expressive hazel-green eyes, the blonde girl still managed to steal away the younger slayer's breath.

"_Just how much of our conversation did she overhear?_" the Boston girl wondered, silently panicking.

If the souled vampire was nervous, his exterior didn't show it. "Buffy," he smiled brightly. "Morning. I hope you slept well."

Buffy looked briefly between the dark slayer and the souled vampire as though she were trying to work out a difficult math problem in her head. She shook her head though, freeing her mind of complicated and unwarranted jealousies.

"So what's the plan for today?" the blonde asked with her hands resting on her slight hips.

Angel took another long sip from his bloody juice box. "You two up for a little work?" he asked.

Faith groaned and playfully slugged the ancient vampire's shoulder. "And here I thought I was comin' to LA for some fun and sun, Fangboy." The dark slayer looked over at her blonde counterpart and smiled. "What do ya think, B?" she asked, grinning. "Wanna stick around? You up for kickin' a little demon ass?"

Buffy stood silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. As much as she wanted to keep a low profile in Los Angeles, the prospect of fighting side by side once again with the Boston girl was too much to resist. The corners of her mouth twitched and pulled upward, forming a half-smile. "Count me in," she grinned.

TBC


	10. Chapter 9

A lot can happen in a Day

Buffy tentatively eyeballed the massive bus as it came to a rolling stop near the curb. The hulking vehicle hissed loudly as the driver released the air break. The door opened and the blonde jumped back slightly. "Are-are you sure it's safe?" she hesitated, reaching out toward the bus as though she expected it to bite or burn her.

The brunette woman standing beside her chuckled thickly and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "You've battled Hell demons since you were sixteen," she laughed, raking her fingers through her unkempt hair, "and you're asking me if_ this _is _safe_?"

The public transit driver raised an eyebrow and looked expectantly at the two young women from his elevated seat. "Ladies?" he rasped in a rough voice that sounded as though the next cigarette break was always too far away.

Faith gave the other girl an easy grin, showing her dimples. "I can't believe you went this long without experiencing mass transit, B." She smiled mischievously. "Especially with _your _driving record."

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out and swatted playfully at the Boston girl's bare arm. "I'm not _that _bad," she grumbled.

Doing her best to ignore the other girl's thick bottom lip, Faith nodded towards the bus's narrow door. "Up ya go, Princess."

Buffy gave the younger woman one last desperate look. The expression on her face looked as though Faith was a ruthless pirate and had just instructed her to 'walk the plank.' But taking a deep breath, the Chosen One bravely ascended the narrow stairs of the Los Angeles public bus.

Buffy hesitated as she drank in the other bus passengers and the awful orange molded seats. "This has _got _to be evil," she muttered under her breath. But feeling the younger woman's soft touch at her elbow, the California slayer slid into one of the uncomfortable seats.

"Why are we taking the bus anyway?" Buffy complained under her breath, wiggling to get comfortable in the plastic seat. "What happened to the motorcycle from last night?"

The Boston girl felt her mouth twist into a smirk. "Angel found out I don't have a drivers license," she chuckled.

Buffy laughed loudly and then stemmed her outburst quickly by covering her mouth with both hands, when the bus's other patrons began to stare at her anxiously. "That's priceless," she mumbled to the younger slayer. "The Chosen Two. We can save the world from apocalypses, but we can't pass Drivers Ed."

"Naw," Faith shrugged. "I drive just fine." She sighed softly. "But my license expired when I was in prison. And it's not like I've had a whole lotta time lately to do anything about it."

Buffy nodded in understanding and allowed her thoughts to drift elsewhere as the bus began rolling down the crowded Los Angeles streets. It was so easy for the blonde girl to forget that not that long ago, Faith had been in prison. In fact, with all the adventures the two girls had had lately, it was even easy to forget the circumstances that had led the brunette woman to turn herself in to the Los Angeles police.

Faith knocked her elbow lightly into the blonde girl's side, garnering her attention. "Think we'll make it?" she asked vaguely.

Buffy turned in her seat to express her confusion when Faith nodded toward the back of the bus where a grey-haired woman and a balding man sat next to each other. The woman looked over at her partner and offered him a cashew from the canister in her hand. As the elderly man rummaged in the nut can, he scanned the daily newspaper folded carefully in his free hand.

Buffy did her best not to be too obvious as she glanced at the older pair. It was clear the two had been together for many years. Their body language clearly signified the comfort and familiarity with which they interacted. They sat in a comfortable silence, sharing the roasted cashews between themselves and looking as natural together as a salt and peppershaker.

Buffy flicked her eyes quickly back towards her seatmate who seemed lost in thought, her dark eyes trained on the couple.

"Ya know," the dark haired woman mumbled, leaning inconspicuously closer to the smaller blonde. Buffy involuntarily shivered at the closeness of the other girl and the feel of her hot breath against her ear. "I always thought I'd be dead by now. Figured there's some kind of expiration date on Slayers. But the more that I live, B," she continued conspiratorially, "the less I wanna die."

Buffy gave her sister-Slayer a half-smile and squeezed her hand with her own. The bus continued to rumble down the city street, neither girl letting go of the other's hand.

"So what exactly are we doing here again?" the blonde asked her sister-Slayer as she looked anxiously around the crowded hotel restaurant. Impeccably dressed men and women chatted idly at their tables while sampling the brunch menu.

"Cordie usually does the Meet and Greet with Angel's fancy clients, but she's got a call-back for a shampoo commercial or something," the Boston girl replied, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the next. "So we gotta roll out the welcome wagon since your boy Angel's a tad allergic to the sun."

Buffy nodded once in understanding. "Do the clientsknow he's a vampire?"

Faith shrugged and began walking toward the hostess's station. "Dunno, B. But with money like this," she said, indicating their plush décor, "something's telling me Angel's clients don't really care – just as long as the job gets done."

The two slayers allowed the formal hostess to lead them back to a small corner table where an impeccably dressed woman in her mid-forties took careful sips from the mimosa in her champaign flute. She raised an eyebrow when the two girls stood before her. "You're from Angel Incorporated?" she asked skeptically?

The girls wordlessly nodded their heads, both still gawking slightly at the celebrities that surrounded them.

"I don't know why I thought they'd send a male. Of _course _women can be detectives. You must forgive me for being so presumptuous." She smiled warmly at the two awkwardly silent women. "I'm Brenda Gates," she briefly introduced herself. "Sit, please," she instructed, motioning towards the two empty seats at her table.

The girls settled down at the white table clothed table and the wealthy woman launched into her story: "My husband, Trevor, and I have been married for just over a year," she began. "It's not either of our first marriages, naturally. I'm not sure how much background information your offices provided you with, but I'm fairly well off."

The woman paused to drink from her champagne glass again and licked her lips before continuing. "When my parents died, I came into quite a sum of money. Trevor knew me before I received the money, however, so I know he's not just with me because of my bank account. But lately," she hesitated slightly, "lately, he's been getting home later than usual." Mrs. Gates toyed with the cloth napkin on the table. "It's been going on for the past two months, I would say. And he's always so secretive about the types of things he does after work. When I confront him, he insists he's not having an affair, but I'm not convinced."

The two demon hunters looked at each other skeptically. Was this _really _the right kind of case for Angel Investigations?

Faith took a sip from her water glass and cleared her throat. "Mrs. Gates," she started.

"Oh!" interrupted the impeccably dressed woman. "Call me Brenda," she breezed. "Mrs. Gates is Trevor's horrid mother."

Faith grimaced, but continued. "_Brenda_. I'm not sure if you're aware of the types of cases Angel Investigation takes on…. our motto _is _after all, 'we help the helpless.'"

Mrs. Gates frowned deeply. "Helpless?" she cried indignantly. "Do I not appear _helpless_ to you?" She raised her voice. "Don't let the pearls give you the wrong impression about me."

"Jebus, woman," the Boston girl grimaced, clutching at the sides of the small table to contain her anger. "D'you fancy types always have to make such a fuss?"

Buffy kicked the younger slayer from underneath the table with the tip of her pointy-toed boots, causing the brunette to yelp and grab at her leg.

The blonde coughed, gaining the wealthy client's attention. "What my associate _means _to say is that your situation seems a little out of our range of services. We deal with, uhm, a little more _underground and clandestine _happenings, rather than matters of the heart," she diplomatically observed.

"Money is no object," the middle-aged woman insisted calmly, folding her hands together on top of the small lunch table. "I'm used to paying for secrecy. I assume a check upfront for $10,000 now will suffice and another $10,000 once you've made a report back to me?"

The two slayers shared a glance once again. Faith shrugged helplessly and the two young women remained momentarily silent. $20,000 was a lot to pass up.

Finally, Buffy spoke for the two. "Mrs. Gates," she began with a cheerful smile, "you have yourself a deal."

"So now what?" Buffy asked as she walked out the front doors of the hotel entrance, swinging her arms at her sides. "Back on the bus?"

Faith exited behind her sister-Slayer, with a slight bounce to her step. "Uh-huh," she agreed. "But I think Angel's gonna need to reward us for all the good work we're doing today…helping the helpless and all that," Faith responded with a sly grin.

"Most definitely," Buffy agreed with a nod of her head.

"So we're all like Sherlock Homesin' it now for the rest of the day?" the Boston girl sighed miserably. When she had agreed to help Angel, she hadn't quite pictured her assistance would be helping in this, non-demonic activity kind of way.

"I prefer to think of myself as Magnum P.I."

Faith grinned and rolled her eyes at her sister-Slayer. "Why are you so weird?"

"I'm not weird," Buffy pouted playfully. "I'm quirky."

"Although…I wouldn't mind seeing you in those tiny shorts dude was always runnin' around in," Faith wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Buffy blushed slightly at Faith's flirtatious behavior. "Where are we going next?" she asked, changing what had somehow turned into an uncomfortable subject.

Faith looked down at the business card in her hand. The Gates woman had given the two girls her husband's card so they could track him down at his office. "If dude is really cheating on his wife," she mused out loud, "what better way to test that theory than with some hot interns shaking their asses in front of him?"

Buffy opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Faith ignored the elder slayer's silent reaction and instead grinned mischievously and rubbed her hands together. "Oh yes," she murmured. "This will be good."

"How did you get in here?" cried the man in the dark suit.

The two slayers had posed as interns in the office of Trevor Gates. Buffy called in a magical and computer favor from her favorite redheaded Wiccan to make sure they could gain access to the office building. And after spending the good portion of the afternoon blatantly flirting with a non-responsive Gates, the slayers decided to break into his office at the end of the workday and confront the man directly with the aid of some slayer persuasion.

The inside of Trevor Gates' office looked like a Hollywood studio, or at least the make-up and special effects trailer. The man in question quickly rose from behind his desk and stomped towards the two intruders. "Get out of here immediately," he growled menacingly.

Faith punched the quickly advancing man in the face, sending him flying backwards, splintering a desk with the weight of his body and scattering briefcases full of make-up and prosthetic facial parts around the penthouse office.

"Mother fucker," Faith mumbled, shaking her hand out. Expecting to feel a searing pain in her brain after having punched the businessman, the Boston girl silently lamented what she saw before her. Her potential attacker was crumpled on the floor with his face peeling off to reveal blue scales underneath. Trevor Gates was a demon. For one moment, however, the dark brunette had experienced euphoria thinking she had attacked a human without suffering from the device in her head. But it appeared the chip remained active, only allowing her to beat up on demons.

"I take it that _this _is your post-work activity, huh?" Buffy stated, her hands perched on her narrow hips. She stared down at the fallen male form on the ground. "You're not having an affair…you're just a demon."

The blue-scaly faced creature lifted himself from off the floor. "I suppose I should ask why you two don't seem alarmed by the color and texture of my face. But I'm guessing I don't want to know." The man signed and brushed at his three-piece suit. "I work hard at what I do – keeping what I really am a secret from my wife." He closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I've been having trouble with my disguise lately," he revealed, "so I've been meeting with Hollywood make-up artists to test out the best way to keep up this front as a human."

"Secrets are dangerous, Mr. Gates," Buffy pontified, her hands still resting on her hips. "You're disrespecting your wife by lying to her about all this. _Real_ relationships are based on mutual trust."

Faith frowned guiltily at the blonde's words. She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her tight dark jeans and tossed the Californian's speech around in her head. She still hadn't told her sister-Slayer about her role in the death of the Initiative's scientists.

"Please don't tell my wife," the harmless demon begged. "I _do _love her."

Buffy glanced in the direction of the Boston girl, but continued to speak for the two since it appeared that Faith was lost in her own sullen thoughts.

"Fine," she agreed curtly. "But you'd better buy her some fancy gift or throw her a party so we have an excuse to tell her why you've been a rogue husband lately. _And,_" she continued pointedly, "I'll make sure someone checks in on you in a few weeks to see that you've finally told your wife the truth."

The blue demon smiled broadly and engulfed the small blonde in a giant hug, lifting her clear off the ground. "Oh, thank you!" he gushed.

The air-borne girl squirmed uncomfortably, her feet dangling in the air. "Down please," she gasped through the tight hug. "Down would be nice."

Buffy stood at the hotel's front desk, idly chewing at her thumbnail as she waited for the Boston girl to finish getting ready for their evening. Faith had insisted on getting ready in one of the upstairs rooms so the blonde woman could take over Angel's basement apartment bathroom to primp for the night.

Angel eyeballed the blonde's outfit with an uncharacteristically hungry look. Buffy wore her hair down and wavy with a tight black skirt, black stiletto heels, and a dark purple tank top with tiny buttons up the front. She wore a long necklace wrapped twice around her neck.

"So where are you two off to tonight?" the eternally brooding man asked, inconspicuously shoving his hands into the front pockets of his dark dress pants.

Buffy shrugged and popped a sweet from a glass tray on the countertop into her mouth. "I don't know," she admitted around the hard candy. "Faith was being all mysterious about our plans for tonight."

"Well tell her to hurry up," Angel grunted, feigning annoyance. "Your taxi is waiting outside."

"Taxi?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You feeling guilty about making me take the bus this morning?"

The souled vampire chuckled. "Nothing so chivalrous, I'm afraid. But Faith insisted that it would be safer for the two of you to take a taxi tonight rather than taking public transit."

The Californian looked skeptically at the two-century old vampire. "Safer?" she questioned, with an amused lilt to her voice. "For slayers?"

The girl saw movement out of the corner of her eye and her gaze moved from the ancient demon's hardened face towards the staircase leading to the hotel's second floor. Her jaw dropped and a strangled noise escaped from the back of her throat.

Seeing his former girlfriend's reaction, Angel turned to look towards the staircase. He chuckled at what he saw: "_Now_ I see why she thought it would be safer," he observed.

Faith carefully descended the tall staircase in staggeringly high stilettos. Instead of her standard uniform of dark leather and tight halter top, she had upgraded to a slip of a white mini-dress. The wide shoulder straps held the minimal amount of material that comprised the entire outfit onto her body. Sparkling embellished lines that crisscrossed across the length of the dress and glittered under the overhead lighting accented the white dress. As she stepped down the stairwell, the slight fringe at the bottom of the sack dress crawled higher up her toned, olive-colored upper thighs. The muscles under her bare skin rippled with every step she took.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the Boston girl spun in a circle for her two admirerers. "You guys like?" she asked, doing a tiny pirouette. The miniscule white mini-dress slightly fluttered with the movement, threatening to reveal all of the dark slayer's secrets. "I think it's from Cordelia's line of hooker wear or something," she laughed.

Buffy continued to ogle the barely-dressed slayer and she stared wordlessly at the sight in front of her.

Faith's long dark tresses fell loose and wavy down her bare shoulders. The scoop neck accentuated her well-defined clavicle. Her characteristically dark make-up had been significantly lightened with just a light burst of lilac coloring on her eyelids and a pale pink lip glass that made her naturally thick lips glimmer in the overhead track lighting of the hotel lobby.

"Ready to motorvate, B?" the brunette asked, thinly masking her delight at the short blonde's frazzled reaction.

Angel nudged the small slayer towards the Hyperion's front exit. "I think you broke her, Faith," the undead man joked.

"You again?" came the disapproving voice.

"Check your list, Baldy," the dark slayer smirked. "Lehane and Summers."

"Uh-huh," the imposing bouncer stated, automatically dismissing the girl again. He looked beyond her to the other patrons waiting outside of the posh club.

The Boston girl's eyes narrowed at his reaction. "I said," she growled, clenching her fists by her sides, "_check your list."_

"Fine," the broad-chested man clipped curtly. His eyes fell upon the clipboard grasped tightly in his beefy hands and he scanned the list of names. His face widened in surprise when he found two unexpected names. Lehane. And Summers.

The man took a few steps back and hastily reached for the velvet rope. "My, uh, my mistake," the bulky man apologized, unhooking the barrier to make room for the two slayers. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out two VIP passes. "Here," he mumbled uncomfortably, shoving the laminated cards toward the scantily dressed Boston girl. "Drinks are on the House tonight."

A small sly smile crept onto the Boston girl's mouth, her lips pursing in amusement. She slowly slid the cards out of the man's out-stretched hand. "Now that's what I call service," she purred, carefully looking the man up and down. Faith turned on her stiletto heels to grin at a stunned blonde slayer. "C'mon, B," she ordered. "We're not getting any younger."

The two girls walked into the impressive club and thundering, echoing bass immediately assailed their ears. The blonde quickly took in their surroundings as Faith led them deeper into the building. Buffy noted the number of celebrity faces she recognized even in the dim lighting of the bar.

The Californian grabbed her dark counter-part's bare elbow before she wandered too far ahead of her, and gave her a look of amazement. "How did we get on the list?" she asked.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly and smiled. "I called in a magical favor."

Buffy stopped and pursed her lips, deep in thought. "Willow?" she guessed haphazardly.

The Boston girl grinned mischievously. "What's so hard to believe about that? Just cause Red hates _me_ is no reason to deny _you _a night of fun in Hollywood."

Buffy shook her head, still in disbelief. "She doesn't hate you, Faith," the blonde countered reflexively.

Faith snorted lightly, crossing her arms across her barely-covered chest. "Well, I doubt she and I will be braiding each other's hair any time soon, that's for sure."

The blonde gave her younger counterpart a small, half-smile. "That reminds me," she laughed lightly. "I never got the chance to braid your hair last night."

Faith gave the other girl a strange smile and took a step closer toward the elder woman, standing in her personal space. She leaned forward, not wanting her next words to be lost in the chaos of the club. "If you play your cards right, B," she rasped huskily, "tonight just may be your lucky night."

++++++++++++++++++++ Suggested Listening: Nelly Furtado – "Maneater"

The brunette lightly grabbed onto the elder slayer's bare elbow, holding her arm lightly with the tips of her fingers. "This way, B," she purred in her ear. The blonde couldn't help the involuntary shiver that overwhelmed her body when she felt the burst of hot air against her skin. "We'll hit the dance floor soon enough, but we gotta get you warmed up first."

Faith led the other girl towards the crowded bar and deftly maneuvered the two of them through the throngs of patrons until they were both in front of an available bartender.

"Do you know what you want, B?" the Boston girl asked, pulling her VIP card from an undisclosed location.

Buffy scrunched up her mouth into a disgruntled frown. "I don't know," she murmured uncomfortably. "Buffy and alcohol are like two un-mix-y things."

Faith grinned knowingly at the girl and flashed a smile towards the bartender. "She'll have a Malibu and pineapple, I'll have a Jack and diet, and line us up with four liquid cocaines while you're at it."

When the bartender returned with their order, the blonde swallowed hard as she stared at the array of beverages before her.

Faith smiled wickedly, sensing her sister-Slayer's hesitance. "Trust me, B. I wouldn't lead you astray." She winked at her partner before tossing back one of the four shots. "Bottom's up, babe."

Buffy took one of the tall shot glasses from off the bar top and grimaced before knocking it back. She preyed to the Alcohol Gods that she wouldn't choke and sputter too much in front of the more experienced slayer.

Faith slammed back another liquid cocaine in rapid succession and quickly drained the contents of her shallow well drink. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned widely at her sister-Slayer. The Californian looked as though she was still struggling to keep the burning liquid from reintroducing itself.

"C'mon, Twinkie," she growled throatily, grabbing the elder girl's sticky hands. "I wanna see you move."

Buffy allowed herself to be led onto the crowded club dance floor where other young, attractive couples exuberantly danced to the music. The effects of the quickly consumed alcoholic beverages were already starting to hit her; her body felt warm and slightly fuzzy, but she contemplated if that was the result of the shots or from her proximity to the Boston girl.

Faith gently clasped her hands on the elder slayer's slender hips and encouraged the small blonde to swing her hips from side to side with her. Buffy couldn't help but stare at the movement of her partner's mini-dress. With each twitch of her hips, the dress miraculously kept all of the dark-haired girl's unmentionables hidden from sight. The dangerously seductive slayer turned around, her back to the blonde slayer and continued to rock to the dance tune. Buffy's eyes bulged when she held her arms up in the air, causing her mini-dress to pull even further up her toned thighs.

Faith spun around again, facing the blonde girl and took her sweating hand in her own, lacing their fingers together. She gave her sister-Slayer a wide smile, exposing her deep dimples. Pulling the elder slayer closer, Faith maneuvered herself so her tight thighs nearly straddled her partner's own naked thigh. The girl slowly dipped to the floor, bending at the knees. She shimmied her body down to the ground in time with the music and then slowly rose back up, the leg muscles of her upper thighs visibly twitching and convulsing from the slight strain.

Buffy audibly gasped when she felt the dark-haired girl circle her waist with her arms and pull her close. Faith took the blonde woman's hands and purposefully placed them on her own hips and gave the small slayer a small smile of reassurance and encouragement. Growing bolder as the alcohol continued to invade her bloodstream, Buffy tightened her hold on the curvaceous woman and they continued to dance close, invading each other's space.

"I'm gonna grab a beverage!" the dark haired woman yelled toward her blonde counterpart, when the song ended. She made a drinking motion with her hand so the elder slayer could understand her over the chaotic din. "You want something?"

Buffy nodded once, but kept dancing. "Go ahead!" she hollered over the music. "I wanna keep dancing," she stated, a brilliant smile on her face.

Faith felt the urge to grab the woman and crush her mouth against the wide, genuine smile the elder woman was flashing her way. But ignoring her dangerous instincts, she spun away and sauntered back towards the club's main bar. Maybe a cold drink would cool down her raging hormones.

The dark haired slayer shimmied her way through the throng of patrons huddled around the busy bar with money in their fists. She flashed the model-looking bartender a sultry smile, making sure to lean over just enough to afford the man an eyeful of cleavage before showing her VIP card again. "Jack and diet," she purred.

The Boston girl leaned back against the wooden bar, her well drink in one hand and studied the mass of sweaty, frenetic dancers on the dance floor. The blonde slayer continued to dance alone, her eyes closed and her hands snaking through the air, losing herself to the music. The Boston girl smiled a private grin, noting that she had never before seen the elder woman look so uninhibited or carefree.

"Your girlfriend is a good dancer," came a voice close to her right ear, interrupting the young slayer's Buffy-centric thoughts. Faith turned to find the owner of the feminine voice standing next to her. A dark-haired, olive skinned woman with bruising thick lips stared carefully at the Boston girl. Her raven-colored hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, and the black top and pants she wore hugged her slender form.

"I'm Lourdes," she smiled, sticking an outstretched hand in the dark slayer's direction.

Faith eyeballed the woman hesitantly before accepting the gesture. "Faith," she replied, giving the other woman's warm hand a squeeze. "And she's _not _my girlfriend," she stated, nodding towards the dance floor.

The woman's carefully lipsticked mouth curved into a smile. The caramel-colored gloss emphasized her stunning ethnic pigmentation.

"You're not from Los Angeles, are you?" the woman asked in careful English. She spoke with just the slightest hint of a foreign accent; her mouth moved exaggeratedly around each word as if testing them out on her tongue before deciding to commit to the question.

An easy smile fell onto the Boston girl's lips. She took a sip from her mixed drink before setting it back on the bar and leaning back, resting her elbows on the wooden top. "What gave it away?" she asked.

"No one's _really _from Los Angeles," the girl pointed out. She waved her arm dramatically towards the dance floor. "We're all just transients. All looking to get famous or rich or…" she paused, her eyes twinkling as she looked hard at the dark slayer, "or get laid."

Faith coughed anxiously, clearing her throat and ruffled through her loose brunette waves out of nervous habit.

"Good! I found you!" Buffy appeared next to the dark-haired slayer and pressed her lips against the Boston girl's smooth cheek, surprising the younger slayer with the uncharacteristic physicality. The Chosen One wrapped her hands possessively around the brunette woman's toned bicep and leaned her chin on the younger woman's naked shoulder. "Whatcha doing over here?" she asked innocently, batting her thick eyelashes.

Faith swallowed hard, unaccustomed to the close proximity of the girl who made her heart flutter without even trying. "Just, uh, just having a drink and talking to Lourdes," she stumbled, nodding in the direction of the slender Latina woman.

Buffy flicked her gaze towards Faith's new acquaintance with a look of disinterest. "Uh-huh," she chirped. "That's boring."

Lourdes cleared her throat angrily, clearly annoyed by the small blonde's entrance and control over the Boston girl's attentions.

"Fai," Buffy whined lightly, ignoring Faith's new friend, and grabbing onto the dangerously sexy slayer's hand. "Why won't you come dance with me?" She raised her eyebrows and gave the girl a hopeful smile, tugging childishly at her captured arm. "Don't you like the way I dance?"

The Boston girl felt her stomach twist into knots as the blonde slayer began to stroke her fingertips across the younger girl's strong wrist.

"Not your girlfriend, hmm?" the Latina woman asked skeptically from her position adjacent to the Boston girl. She raised a carefully manicured eyebrow. "You might want to tell _her _that," she stated curtly.

The brunette glanced between the two women, the blonde with her tantalizing bottom lip protruding in a carefully practiced pout, and the Latina woman with her dark eyes flashing with disappointment.

Finally making a decision, Faith set her empty glass on the bar top and allowed herself to be dragged back to the dance floor. She shrugged and flashed the Latina vixen a wicked grin before disappearing completely into the chaos of the club.

"Buttons are mean," bumbled the blonde as she fumbled with the single button at the waist closure of her skirt, a slight whine in the tone of her voice. "It's too hard," she continued to complain. "Help me, Faith."

After leaving the club in the early hours of the following morning, the two girls had caught a cab back to the Hyperion. Whenever the two girls walked, either from the club's front entrance to the cab, from the taxi to the Hyperion, or down the stairs to Angel's basement apartment, Buffy had held tightly onto Faith's, possessively, but also out of the need to keep from stumbling in her inebriated state.

Faith nervously moved close to the elder girl. She could smell the slight scent of arousal mixed with sweat emanating from the blonde woman. She moved her shaking hands carefully closer to the blonde's waist as if scared any sudden movement would make the elder slayer bolt. She flipped the top button open easily with her thumb and forefinger.

"There," she rasped, huskier than she originally intended. "You're good to go."

"Zipper too," the elder slayer insisted, lazily closing her eyes and swaying slightly as her high-heels sunk into the carpeting in the basement's apartment floor.

At the small slayer's request, the Boston girl stilled the whimper that threatened to escape from her throat. She held onto the waistline of the small slayer's skirt, her fingers curled slightly under the top of her skirt. Buffy's naked skin felt scorching hot, and she could just barely feel the tops of the woman's panties brushing against her fingertips.

Faith chewed on her thick bottom lip as she slowly unzipped the skirt. "Uh, B," the girl stammered uncomfortably. "If I let go, you're gonna lose the skirt."

Buffy opened her eyes and stared hard at Faith, her hazel-green irisises silently challenging the Boston girl. "So let go," she breathed softly.

Letting go of the thin cotton material, Faith watched as the skirt fell easily to the ground, the material crumpling into a heap on the floor. Buffy stepped out of the skirt that lay around her ankles. The golden-haired slayer was still in her stilettos, which unnecessarily accentuated the strength in her smooth, slender calves.

Seemingly unconcerned by her lack of dress, the California slayer stepped closer to the stunned brunette, now wearing only her panties, bra, and tank top. "Did I mention how much I love this dress?" Buffy murmured, stroking her fingers down Faith's side. "You looked really good tonight." Her fingers lingered momentarily at the bottom hem of the dress, causing the Boston girl's legs to involuntarily wobble when she felt the Californian's fingers innocently brush against her bare upper thighs.

Buffy looked down at her top and frowned. "Uh-uh," she smiled mischievously. "More buttons." She looked up at the flustered brunette, her eyes twinkling. Not needing to be asked twice, the Boston girl automatically reached for the elder slayer.

Faith's own dexterity surprised herself as her fingers nimbly unfastened the long string of small buttons that kept the elder woman's top in place. When she unbuttoned the final enclosure, she pushed the soft cotton top off of Buffy's shoulders, allowing the clothing to fall to the ground, discarded next to the forgotten skirt.

The Chosen One stood too close, too naked for the Boston girl's comfort. She quickly turned away and busied her eyes on some of the medieval weaponry displayed on Angel's apartment wall. A loud crash brought her glance back in the direction of the small, half-naked slayer.

Buffy had flopped hard onto the bed, the wooden headboard crashing against the adjacent wall. The blonde lay on top of the down comforter in just her matching purple push-up bra and lace panties and closed her eyes. "The room is spiiiinnning," she sing-songed.

Faith stood awkwardly in the center of her room, unsure of what to do with herself. A nearly naked Buffy was giggling in the bed that the two were supposed to innocently share that night. The Boston girl swallowed hard, staring at the miles of exposed flesh before her. Gathering what little courage she had, the former convict rested her knees on the edge of the bed and began crawling toward the blonde.

Faith opened her mouth, ready to throw a highly suggestive and sexual comment towards her slaying partner, but stopped when she noticed that Buffy's eyes were still closed. She moved closer and could see the elder girl's nearly naked chest rising and falling in an even rhythmic pattern. The brunette could also just make out the sound of light, breathy snoring coming from the small blonde.

With a frustrated sigh, Faith stood up and pulled her mini-dress over her head. Part of her had hoped that _someone else_ would be undressing her tonight – specifically Buffy Summers. After rearranging the passed out slayer so her scantly covered body was underneath the bed sheets, the Boston girl threw an oversized t-shirt on over her bra and panty set and crawled in next to the deeply sleeping blonde woman.

Faith stared up at the vaulted ceiling and tried to relax, but her body was humming too loudly for her to ignore the familiar throbbing between her thighs. Carefully, slowly, so as not to disturb the lightly snoring woman next to her, Faith shimmied her right hand down the Egyptian cotton sheets and down her t-shirt covered abdomen. She could feel the muscles of her stomach immediately tense in anticipation.

When her fingers reached her lace panties, she haphazardly dipped her hand underneath the waistband of the delicate underclothes. She bit her bottom lip to silence the low moan creeping to her lips when her fingers were greeted with the physical reminder of her own arousal. Her fingers slid through the moisture pooling between her thighs, as they slid effortlessly along her hairless sex. The Boston girl rubbed at her exposed, swollen clit with the pads of her fingers, moving the sensitive bud in a small, frantic circular motion.

Her arm suddenly spasmed and her elbow rammed hard into the slender form sleeping beside her. A silent alarm exploded in the Boston girl's head and Faith stilled the movement of her hand when she felt the small girl stir next to her. Buffy groaned and rolled over, the throaty, raw sound pushing the Boston girl closer to her release.

Too close to care, no longer worrying about being caught, Faith plunged two fingers into her soaking slit and furiously pushed and pulled her long fingers out of her rapidly tightening hole. She spread her legs further apart until she felt the soft, hot skin of her sister-Slayer's leg pressed against her own. The sound of her arousal seemed to echo loudly in the basement apartment. The heat of her pussy burned her fingers, her thick arousal coating her unrelenting digits as they pounded into and punished her hot cunt.

Knowing her release was close, Faith pinched her clit with her free hand and exploded.

Breathing deeply, the Boston girl tried to catch her breath. The sound of her pounding heart echoed in her ears as the blood rushed away from her sex and back to her head. Faith turned on her side to look at the angelic face of the Californian who continued to sleep undisturbed. Faith smiled wistfully at the slumbering woman, thankful for the alcohol-induced coma.

"G'nite, B," she whispered into the darkness before rolling over on her opposite side and facing away from the elder girl.

Buffy snuggled closer and slipped her arm across the Boston girl's slick stomach and nuzzled her nose into the crook of her sweaty neck. Faith's body immediately tensed, worried that the Californian had known what she was doing next to her all along and had only feigned being asleep. The Boston girl finally relaxed, however, when she felt the golden-haired woman sigh deeply into the back of her neck and her breathing returned to its evenly paced tempo.

Faith allowed herself to be held and spooned in this way, uncertain about the blonde's feelings. Determined to talk to the elder slayer in the morning, however, the Boston girl allowed herself to finally fall into her own deep sleep.

Faith groaned, feeling the familiar pounding in her head when her dark eyes fluttered open. Too much alcohol. The young woman sat up in bed and looked sideways over at her bedmate who continued to sleep undisturbed. The Boston girl felt the telltale empty ache between her naked thighs and she contemplated a repeat performance of last night's self-love.

The young slayer bit her bottom lip as if in physical pain as she looked at the sleeping body of her sister-Slayer. The girl had one arm thrown over her closed eyes as if to shield herself from the morning sunshine, even though the basement apartment afforded no natural sunlight.

Wanting to stay in bed all day if only to stare at the peaceful form of the California slayer, the Boston girl finally crawled carefully out of bed when she felt the familiar gnawing of hunger in her gut. The girl threw on some discarded sweatpants before carefully padding up the basement stairs and made her way into Angel Investigation's main floor office where Angel sat behind his desk, drinking from another O-positive Capri Sun and eating from an opened box of donuts.

"Rough night?" the vampire innocently asked upon seeing the Boston girl's disheveled hair.

Faith scratched at the back of her neck and looked around the office for signs of hot caffeinated beverages. "Something like that," she muttered.

The sound of hollow, thudding footsteps interrupted the two friends' conversation. Buffy appeared at the top of the staircase, a terry-cloth robe wrapped tightly around her slender form. "Faith!" she called out. "Why the hell did I wake up just wearing –." She stopped her rant when she saw the souled vampire seated in the office as well, holding onto a jelly donut.

"Morning, Buffy," Angel grinned cheekily. "You were saying?"

The Californian blushed profusely and wandered over to the small coffee maker. "I need caffeine," she mumbled uncomfortably, not making eye contact with either of the room's occupants.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Faith," the vampire stated, looking away from the red-faced blonde and back at the Boston girl. "Someone called for you earlier this morning. I told her you never wake up before noon though."

The Boston girl stuck out her tongue and made a face at the undead man. "Har-har, Soulboy," she quipped. Faith's eyebrows knitted together. "Wait. Who would know I'm here and has this number?"

The soul'd vampire shrugged. "I didn't think to ask how she got the number. Figured you made a friend last night," he smiled and gave the girl an uncharacteristic nudge and wink. "Said her name was Lourdes."

Faith immediately glanced anxiously over at the blonde to gauge her reaction. If the California slayer was jealous or upset, however, her facial features didn't give away her feelings.

Buffy cleared her throat to break up the awkward silence that had fallen over the threesome like a suffocating blanket. "I've been thinking that maybe it's time for me to go back to Sunnydale," she stated with false cheerfulness. "I'm sure my mom and Dawn are beginning to worry about me."

"Dawn?" Faith questioned. "Who's Dawn?"

Buffy and Angel looked at the Boston slayer as though she'd suddenly grown a tail. "Uh, my little sister? Duh?" the blonde stated, making a face.

Faith blinked hard a few times before speaking: "Wait," she started, her voice incredulous. "You have a _sister?_"

TBC


	11. Chapter 10

"Good book?"

The olive-skinned woman looked up lazily from the pages of her novel and her dark eyes focused on the feminine figure standing in front of her.

The stranger from the previous evening at the nightclub sat by herself in a small booth inside of a quaint coffee shop. The table at which she sat was empty save for herself, a book, and a large mug of dark, hot liquid. Lourdes sat dressed in a light purple knit sweater and tight jeans that hugged the slight bulge of her calves. The girl's smoky eye make-up looked more appropriate for a nightclub, but the carefully applied coloring perfectly accented her large almond-shaped eyes. Her dark, shiny shoulder-length hair hung loose around her face in soft waves.

"Hey there," she smiled, the grin pulling at the corners of her mouth and her large eyes crinkling slightly as she closed her book. "I wasn't sure if you'd actually show up, so I brought along my own entertainment in case you stood me up." The girl spoke with an affected, slow accent as though she had all the time in the world to have a conversation.

Faith didn't know why she felt compelled to meet with the girl when she had called Angel's offices a second time that morning. Partly, she was curious as to how the Latina woman had managed to trace her to the soul'd vampire. Plus, she needed to escape the confusing blonde back at the Hyperion for a little while. Becoming so close to the small slayer had managed to muddle her brain once again.

The brunette slayer, dressed in dark jeans and a tight t-shirt, slid into the small booth across from the other woman. "I don't normally do these kinda things," she stated honestly.

Lourdes raised an eyebrow. "Drink coffee?"

Faith laughed lightly. "No, you know what I mean. Meet up with strange girls," she paused, "when the sun's still out." She gave the dark-skinned woman a dimpled grin. "But your detective work impressed me. Never had a girl hunt down my digits before."

Lourdes averted her eyes briefly, glancing back down at her book resting on the tabletop. "You took off so quickly last night with your friend…"

"Uh, yeah," the brunette mumbled; now it was her turn to feel uncomfortable. "Had to get her home…she drank a little too much."

The other woman's mouth twisted into a wry grin and Faith felt herself strangely drawn to the shape of her thick lips. There was a contagious confidence that radiated from the Latina girl. The ease with which she spoke immediately put those around her in a calmer state.

"Those are pretty earrings," Faith observed casually, reaching out to finger the large circular jewelry hanging from the svelte girl's small earlobes.

Lourdes caught the Boston girl's hand in her own. "Thanks," she murmured, stroking her fingers along the young slayer's palm. "I got them when I was visiting family in Mexico."

Faith pulled her hand back abruptly, nervous by the familiar way that the Latina woman touched her. "Uh, Mexico?" she blurted, hoping the other woman wouldn't pick up on her unease. "Is that where you're from?"

The dark-haired, mysterious woman smiled deeply. "I do a good job hiding my accent, don't you think?"

The Boston girl nodded in agreement. "For real. Way better than I do. I get a couple drinks in me and it's like frickin' _Good Will Hunting _over here."

Lourdes raised a thin, manicured eyebrow and smiled knowingly. "How ya like _them_ apples?"

Faith chuckled. "You got it."

"So you're visiting from Boston, then?" the Mexican girl asked before blowing on the large mug of coffee she cupped in both hands. Faith felt herself drawn to the pursed lips yet again.

The slayer hesitated in answering and shifted her eyes to the side. "Uh, no. Haven't been back there in a long while. I'm, uh, crashing at a friend's place in town right now."

"Staying long?" the other girl pressed, taking a short sip of the hot brew.

"Who's askin'?" the brunette responded as she leaned forward. Her voice came out a little harsher than she had intended.

Lourdes shook her head and laughed. "I'm sorry." She waved a hand in the air. "It sounds like I'm grilling you, doesn't it? You'll have to forgive me," she apologized. "I-I just get a little nervous on first dates."

The Boston girl choked on her tongue. "Date?" she sputtered. "Uh, yeah, I don't do those either."

Lourdes pursed her lips together. "So you weren't out on a date last night with your blonde friend?"

Faith leaned back and exhaled. "Date?" She winced at the word. "That's a complicated question. You see, Buffy and I –,"

"Buffy?" Lourdes interrupted, a small smile on her beautiful face. "She must be from Los Angeles with a name like that."

Faith smirked at the Latina woman. "That obvious, eh?" she mused.

The dark-haired woman waved goodbye and watched the young slayer disappear around a corner as she walked away from the small café. Waiting momentarily to assure the Boston girl had left, she rummaged in her purse for her cell phone. She flipped open the electronic device and dialed the familiar number. The phone rang twice before the line clicked, indicating someone was on the other line. Not waiting for a greeting, Lourdes spoke:

"I found your slayer. You were right – she's with the vampire. Send in your extraction team."

"Where have you been hiding all day?"

Faith shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it on the red plush cushion in the center of the Hyperion's lobby. "Does it matter?" she asked nonchalantly. "I figured you woulda been back to Sunnydale and your glamorous life by now."

The blonde Californian stuck out her bottom lip, ignoring the Boston girl's demeaning tone. "The bus schedule is all messed up," she complained. "I have to wait until tomorrow for the next bus to Sunnydale. So where were you?" she asked again.

"I was out," the Boston girl explained noncommitally. "Went for a walk."

Faith didn't know why she felt the need to lie to the other girl. She wanted Buffy to know that she wasn't going to be available forever – a girl of her caliber didn't stay under-pursued for long. Another part, however, admonished her for even going out with Lourdes when she could have been spending more quality time with the blonde Californian. But the larger part of her brain warned her not to push Buffy into something she wasn't ready for; something she wasn't ready to admit.

Alcohol made the lightweight slayer more open with her emotions, and Faith knew the golden-haired slayer certainly felt something for her. If nothing else, the previous night had made that quite apparent. But Faith didn't know if either of them would ever be ready to pursue whatever it was that they felt for each other.

Buffy hopped down off of the front desk countertop, her bare feet sounding hollow on the hardwood floors. "I wish I would have known," she frowned. "I would've liked to go out with you. I had to hang out with Angel all morning instead."

Faith grinned cheekily. "Aww, c'mon, B. Couldn't have been that bad." She plopped down on the soft red seat in the center of the spacious main floor and crossed her legs. "Or was it hard to resist playin' suck-face with your ex?" She winked playfully at the elder slayer. "I know how those old flames can be….rekindled…"

Buffy's frown deepened. "You're such a pig sometimes."

Faith chuckled, but then grabbed at her stomach when it rumbled loudly. "Speaking of pigs…does Angel have any food around here? Or just of the liquid variety?" The Boston girl was acutely aware that she had missed breakfast to have coffee with Lourdes.

"Oh, God. Not _more _alcohol," Buffy groaned, immediately grabbing at her head. "I can't believe you let me drink so much last night."

The Boston girl unleashed a torrent of laughter, holding her sides. "Damn, B," she wheezed between laughs. "Am I turning you into a lush already? I meant _blood_, Blondie."

Buffy blushed, realizing her mistake, but her eyes quickly lit up. "Oh!" she squealed. "I _did _find something in the freezer!" The small slayer quickly turned on her heels and sprinted down the stairs to the basement apartment, disappearing from view.

Faith was left with only a few moments with which to ponder her current situation. She knew she couldn't stay at Angel's for too long before the government realized where she was hiding, and going back to Sunnydale would put Buffy in too much danger, she reasoned. But regardless of where she called 'Home,' she knew that she needed to put an end to the Initiative – somehow. With or without the blonde slayer's help. It was too dangerous from either women to have the government interested in the genetic make-up of a Slayer.

The dark slayer's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Buffy stampeding noisily up the wooden staircase. She appeared triumphant on the first floor, hiding something behind her back. "I found _ice cream!" _she cheered victoriously, holding a pint of Moose Tracks above her head like a trophy.

Faith grinned at the blonde and rubbed her hands together. "Now you're talkin'. Ice cream for breakfast is always a good choice. Get over here," she insisted, patting the space next to her.

With the spoon in her mouth, Buffy skipped across the foyer and sat down next to the Boston girl, falling into the soft, padded cushioning.

"Got another spoon for me, B?" Faith asked, poking her slaying partner playfully in the ribs.

"Oopsie," Buffy mumbled guiltily around the silver spoon in her mouth. She gave her former nemesis a small half-smile.

Faith smirked. "How come you always act like an only child?"

"Well, I'm _not_," Buffy pouted playfully. "And speaking of which…it still doesn't make sense why you don't remember Dawn. The poor girl practically _worshipped _you, for some odd reason. I mean, until you went all evil and went on a killing spree."

Faith's eyes immediately clouded over, the ice cream and silly bantering quickly forgotten.

Recognizing her mistake, Buffy clamped onto Faith's t-shirted arm with her free hand. "God, I'm so sorry, Faith," she apologized, her eyes heavy with regret. "I'm such an idiot sometimes. I swear my brain and my mouth aren't connected." She hung her head, casting her eyes away from the brunette. "You probably think I'm never going to stop bringing that up, don't you?"

Faith remained sullen, not looking or acknowledging the girl sitting next to her.

Buffy waved her spoon in front of the Boston girl's brooding features, hoping to garner her attentions. "I'll let you use my spoon if you'll forgive me?" she chirped, raising her voice hopefully.

Faith snatched the spoon out of the elder slayer's hand and popped the utensil into her mouth. "Mine now!" she gloated. The dark haired girl grabbed the tub of ice cream and voraciously dug her spoon into the container. She shoveled a large mouthful of the creamy dessert into her open mouth.

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "What about _my_ ice cream?"

Faith laughed around the food in her mouth and burrowed the spoon back into the ice cream. "Here ya go, B," she offered, pulling a large spoonful out of the pint-sized box.

Both girls watched motionless as the melting ice cream slowly dislodged itself from the wavering spoon and landed on Buffy's hand that rested on her jean-covered thigh. The Californian looked with horror at the white speckled glob of vanilla ice cream and chocolate fudge as it rapidly melted against the heat of her skin.

Faith flicked her eyes up toward Buffy's face and gave her a mischievous grin before wordlessly swooping down to suck the ice cream off of the elder slayer's skin. Buffy's body tensed and she gasped quietly when she felt the young girl's textured tongue swab across the top of her hand. She bit her bottom lip and stifled a desperate whimper as the dangerously beautiful woman's mouth lingered on the ice cream-free flesh. Faith moved her mouth boldly across the pillowy soft skin.

Sitting up again, the Boston girl licked her lips, tasting the sugary sweet leftovers at the corners of her mouth. She closed her dark eyes slightly and she subtly moved forward, narrowing the space between herself and her sister Slayer.

Buffy's thick eyelashes fluttered as she felt herself caught up by the dark slayer's predatory look. "Faith," she whispered, the name and syllable nearly getting caught by the lump in her throat.

The front door to the massive hotel banged open. The wind caught the door, slamming it loudly against a wall in the entranceway. Both slayers immediately looked in the direction of the door to find an unexpected visitor standing in the threshold.

Buffy was the first of the two to find her voice. "Riley?"

The Boston girl immediately scrambled to her feet, immediately forgetting about the ice cream and Buffy's skin. The blonde slayer pulled herself together and hopped to her feet soon after.

"How did you find this place?" Buffy asked, speaking for herself as well as her sister Slayer. "How did you know we were here?"

Riley smirked. "The government has innumerable resources. You're not the only ones who can do research." He nodded his head backwards. "I've got the extraction team waiting just outside this hotel; they're covering all the exits. They learned their lesson last time not to leave their vehicles unattended around you girls."

"Why are you doing this, Riley?" Buffy demanded, her voice cold as she glared at her former boyfriend.

"I'm here for Faith," the Marine curtly answered his girlfriend. "I've come to take her back to the Initiative. She's too dangerous to just be walking around free."

Both women's bodies tensed at the soldier's bold words. "What makes you think I'm just going to let you take her from me?" the blonde girl retorted. She balled her hands into tight fists at her sides.

Faith glanced sideways at the Californian, shocked by her choice of words.

Riley shook his head. "You can't keep protecting a murderer, Buffy," he stated gruffly. "And I can't keep you out of this forever. Her crimes are going to catch up with her sooner or later, and I don't want to see you involved. I know you don't feel the same way, but I _do _love you."

"Murderer? Crimes?" the elder slayer cried in disbelief. "She's already made her amends for what happened. We've all moved past that…and besides," Buffy noted, glancing at her sister Slayer, "it was an accident."

Riley snorted and crossed his arms across his broad chest. "How do you_ accidentally _feed two military scientists to a vampire?"

"What are you talking about?" Buffy's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at the boy's words.

"Some hostile with a penchant for gambling with kittens was apparently bragging to his associates about how he'd helped the Slayer kill some of our men," Riley informed them. "Loyalty doesn't run too thick in the demon community, apparently, and we got word from one of our informants." The boy looked smug about the discovery.

"You _fucker_," Faith growled at the Marine between clenched teeth.

Buffy brought a hand up to her mouth in horror. She stared at Faith to gauge her reaction, but the Boston girl only glared at the Iowan soldier with venom in her eyes.

"Faith," Buffy whispered, her large green eyes trained on the girl with whom she had become so close over the past few weeks. "Tell me he's lying. Please," she implored.

Faith gnashed her back teeth together, causing the muscles and bones in her jaw to twitch and flex. "I can't."

The tears that quickly flooded her vision surprised Buffy. Her bottom lip quivered in anger and betrayal. "How could you?" she whispered. "How could you lie to me all this time and pretend like you'd done nothing wrong?" she demanded. "I thought you had changed, Faith!"

"I had!" the Boston teen protested, looking desperately at the California slayer. "I _did_…you have to believe me, Buffy," she begged. "But-but then those fuckers _tortured me _and put a chip in my head! They had to pay, B," Faith insisted vehemently. "They had to pay for what they did to me!"

"You can't go playing God, Faith – deciding who gets to die and who gets to live!" the blonde declared animatedly. She could feel the hot tears dripping down her cheeks and she wiped uselessly at her face.

"Well you and the Super Friends certainly weren't doing anything to stop the Intiative." Faith pointed accusingly at the Marine. "The government has _no place _messing with our world. This operation is bad news, B, and you know it. Demons are a Slayer's job – not Uncle Sam's."

"You're fucking the enemy, Buffy!" Faith's thick lips twisted into a cruel smile when she realized what she had just said. "Which, I suppose is nothing new for you," she rasped bitterly.

Buffy looked up, the tears no longer falling. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

"I've heard enough, Faith." Her voice sounded flat and emotionless, and her eyes appeared hard. She looked over at the Iowan. "Go ahead and take her."

TBC


	12. Chapter 11

"Good book?"

The olive-skinned woman looked up lazily from the pages of her novel and her dark eyes focused on the feminine figure standing in front of her.

The stranger from the previous evening at the nightclub sat by herself in a small booth inside of a quaint coffee shop. The table at which she sat was empty save for herself, a book, and a large mug of dark, hot liquid. Lourdes sat dressed in a light purple knit sweater and tight jeans that hugged the slight bulge of her calves. The girl's smoky eye make-up looked more appropriate for a nightclub, but the carefully applied coloring perfectly accented her large almond-shaped eyes. Her dark, shiny shoulder-length hair hung loose around her face in soft waves.

"Hey there," she smiled, the grin pulling at the corners of her mouth and her large eyes crinkling slightly as she closed her book. "I wasn't sure if you'd actually show up, so I brought along my own entertainment in case you stood me up." The girl spoke with an affected, slow accent as though she had all the time in the world to have a conversation.

Faith didn't know why she felt compelled to meet with the girl when she had called Angel's offices a second time that morning. Partly, she was curious as to how the Latina woman had managed to trace her to the soul'd vampire. Plus, she needed to escape the confusing blonde back at the Hyperion for a little while. Becoming so close to the small slayer had managed to muddle her brain once again.

The brunette slayer, dressed in dark jeans and a tight t-shirt, slid into the small booth across from the other woman. "I don't normally do these kinda things," she stated honestly.

Lourdes raised an eyebrow. "Drink coffee?"

Faith laughed lightly. "No, you know what I mean. Meet up with strange girls," she paused, "when the sun's still out." She gave the dark-skinned woman a dimpled grin. "But your detective work impressed me. Never had a girl hunt down my digits before."

Lourdes averted her eyes briefly, glancing back down at her book resting on the tabletop. "You took off so quickly last night with your friend…"

"Uh, yeah," the brunette mumbled; now it was her turn to feel uncomfortable. "Had to get her home…she drank a little too much."

The other woman's mouth twisted into a wry grin and Faith felt herself strangely drawn to the shape of her thick lips. There was a contagious confidence that radiated from the Latina girl. The ease with which she spoke immediately put those around her in a calmer state.

"Those are pretty earrings," Faith observed casually, reaching out to finger the large circular jewelry hanging from the svelte girl's small earlobes.

Lourdes caught the Boston girl's hand in her own. "Thanks," she murmured, stroking her fingers along the young slayer's palm. "I got them when I was visiting family in Mexico."

Faith pulled her hand back abruptly, nervous by the familiar way that the Latina woman touched her. "Uh, Mexico?" she blurted, hoping the other woman wouldn't pick up on her unease. "Is that where you're from?"

The dark-haired, mysterious woman smiled deeply. "I do a good job hiding my accent, don't you think?"

The Boston girl nodded in agreement. "For real. Way better than I do. I get a couple drinks in me and it's like frickin' _Good Will Hunting _over here."

Lourdes raised a thin, manicured eyebrow and smiled knowingly. "How ya like _them_ apples?"

Faith chuckled. "You got it."

"So you're visiting from Boston, then?" the Mexican girl asked before blowing on the large mug of coffee she cupped in both hands. Faith felt herself drawn to the pursed lips yet again.

The slayer hesitated in answering and shifted her eyes to the side. "Uh, no. Haven't been back there in a long while. I'm, uh, crashing at a friend's place in town right now."

"Staying long?" the other girl pressed, taking a short sip of the hot brew.

"Who's askin'?" the brunette responded as she leaned forward. Her voice came out a little harsher than she had intended.

Lourdes shook her head and laughed. "I'm sorry." She waved a hand in the air. "It sounds like I'm grilling you, doesn't it? You'll have to forgive me," she apologized. "I-I just get a little nervous on first dates."

The Boston girl choked on her tongue. "Date?" she sputtered. "Uh, yeah, I don't do those either."

Lourdes pursed her lips together. "So you weren't out on a date last night with your blonde friend?"

Faith leaned back and exhaled. "Date?" She winced at the word. "That's a complicated question. You see, Buffy and I –,"

"Buffy?" Lourdes interrupted, a small smile on her beautiful face. "She must be from Los Angeles with a name like that."

Faith smirked at the Latina woman. "That obvious, eh?" she mused.

The dark-haired woman waved goodbye and watched the young slayer disappear around a corner as she walked away from the small café. Waiting momentarily to assure the Boston girl had left, she rummaged in her purse for her cell phone. She flipped open the electronic device and dialed the familiar number. The phone rang twice before the line clicked, indicating someone was on the other line. Not waiting for a greeting, Lourdes spoke:

"I found your slayer. You were right – she's with the vampire. Send in your extraction team."

"Where have you been hiding all day?"

Faith shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it on the red plush cushion in the center of the Hyperion's lobby. "Does it matter?" she asked nonchalantly. "I figured you woulda been back to Sunnydale and your glamorous life by now."

The blonde Californian stuck out her bottom lip, ignoring the Boston girl's demeaning tone. "The bus schedule is all messed up," she complained. "I have to wait until tomorrow for the next bus to Sunnydale. So where were you?" she asked again.

"I was out," the Boston girl explained noncommitally. "Went for a walk."

Faith didn't know why she felt the need to lie to the other girl. She wanted Buffy to know that she wasn't going to be available forever – a girl of her caliber didn't stay under-pursued for long. Another part, however, admonished her for even going out with Lourdes when she could have been spending more quality time with the blonde Californian. But the larger part of her brain warned her not to push Buffy into something she wasn't ready for; something she wasn't ready to admit.

Alcohol made the lightweight slayer more open with her emotions, and Faith knew the golden-haired slayer certainly felt something for her. If nothing else, the previous night had made that quite apparent. But Faith didn't know if either of them would ever be ready to pursue whatever it was that they felt for each other.

Buffy hopped down off of the front desk countertop, her bare feet sounding hollow on the hardwood floors. "I wish I would have known," she frowned. "I would've liked to go out with you. I had to hang out with Angel all morning instead."

Faith grinned cheekily. "Aww, c'mon, B. Couldn't have been that bad." She plopped down on the soft red seat in the center of the spacious main floor and crossed her legs. "Or was it hard to resist playin' suck-face with your ex?" She winked playfully at the elder slayer. "I know how those old flames can be….rekindled…"

Buffy's frown deepened. "You're such a pig sometimes."

Faith chuckled, but then grabbed at her stomach when it rumbled loudly. "Speaking of pigs…does Angel have any food around here? Or just of the liquid variety?" The Boston girl was acutely aware that she had missed breakfast to have coffee with Lourdes.

"Oh, God. Not _more _alcohol," Buffy groaned, immediately grabbing at her head. "I can't believe you let me drink so much last night."

The Boston girl unleashed a torrent of laughter, holding her sides. "Damn, B," she wheezed between laughs. "Am I turning you into a lush already? I meant _blood_, Blondie."

Buffy blushed, realizing her mistake, but her eyes quickly lit up. "Oh!" she squealed. "I _did _find something in the freezer!" The small slayer quickly turned on her heels and sprinted down the stairs to the basement apartment, disappearing from view.

Faith was left with only a few moments with which to ponder her current situation. She knew she couldn't stay at Angel's for too long before the government realized where she was hiding, and going back to Sunnydale would put Buffy in too much danger, she reasoned. But regardless of where she called 'Home,' she knew that she needed to put an end to the Initiative – somehow. With or without the blonde slayer's help. It was too dangerous from either women to have the government interested in the genetic make-up of a Slayer.

The dark slayer's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Buffy stampeding noisily up the wooden staircase. She appeared triumphant on the first floor, hiding something behind her back. "I found _ice cream!" _she cheered victoriously, holding a pint of Moose Tracks above her head like a trophy.

Faith grinned at the blonde and rubbed her hands together. "Now you're talkin'. Ice cream for breakfast is always a good choice. Get over here," she insisted, patting the space next to her.

With the spoon in her mouth, Buffy skipped across the foyer and sat down next to the Boston girl, falling into the soft, padded cushioning.

"Got another spoon for me, B?" Faith asked, poking her slaying partner playfully in the ribs.

"Oopsie," Buffy mumbled guiltily around the silver spoon in her mouth. She gave her former nemesis a small half-smile.

Faith smirked. "How come you always act like an only child?"

"Well, I'm _not_," Buffy pouted playfully. "And speaking of which…it still doesn't make sense why you don't remember Dawn. The poor girl practically _worshipped _you, for some odd reason. I mean, until you went all evil and went on a killing spree."

Faith's eyes immediately clouded over, the ice cream and silly bantering quickly forgotten.

Recognizing her mistake, Buffy clamped onto Faith's t-shirted arm with her free hand. "God, I'm so sorry, Faith," she apologized, her eyes heavy with regret. "I'm such an idiot sometimes. I swear my brain and my mouth aren't connected." She hung her head, casting her eyes away from the brunette. "You probably think I'm never going to stop bringing that up, don't you?"

Faith remained sullen, not looking or acknowledging the girl sitting next to her.

Buffy waved her spoon in front of the Boston girl's brooding features, hoping to garner her attentions. "I'll let you use my spoon if you'll forgive me?" she chirped, raising her voice hopefully.

Faith snatched the spoon out of the elder slayer's hand and popped the utensil into her mouth. "Mine now!" she gloated. The dark haired girl grabbed the tub of ice cream and voraciously dug her spoon into the container. She shoveled a large mouthful of the creamy dessert into her open mouth.

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "What about _my_ ice cream?"

Faith laughed around the food in her mouth and burrowed the spoon back into the ice cream. "Here ya go, B," she offered, pulling a large spoonful out of the pint-sized box.

Both girls watched motionless as the melting ice cream slowly dislodged itself from the wavering spoon and landed on Buffy's hand that rested on her jean-covered thigh. The Californian looked with horror at the white speckled glob of vanilla ice cream and chocolate fudge as it rapidly melted against the heat of her skin.

Faith flicked her eyes up toward Buffy's face and gave her a mischievous grin before wordlessly swooping down to suck the ice cream off of the elder slayer's skin. Buffy's body tensed and she gasped quietly when she felt the young girl's textured tongue swab across the top of her hand. She bit her bottom lip and stifled a desperate whimper as the dangerously beautiful woman's mouth lingered on the ice cream-free flesh. Faith moved her mouth boldly across the pillowy soft skin.

Sitting up again, the Boston girl licked her lips, tasting the sugary sweet leftovers at the corners of her mouth. She closed her dark eyes slightly and she subtly moved forward, narrowing the space between herself and her sister Slayer.

Buffy's thick eyelashes fluttered as she felt herself caught up by the dark slayer's predatory look. "Faith," she whispered, the name and syllable nearly getting caught by the lump in her throat.

The front door to the massive hotel banged open. The wind caught the door, slamming it loudly against a wall in the entranceway. Both slayers immediately looked in the direction of the door to find an unexpected visitor standing in the threshold.

Buffy was the first of the two to find her voice. "Riley?"

The Boston girl immediately scrambled to her feet, immediately forgetting about the ice cream and Buffy's skin. The blonde slayer pulled herself together and hopped to her feet soon after.

"How did you find this place?" Buffy asked, speaking for herself as well as her sister Slayer. "How did you know we were here?"

Riley smirked. "The government has innumerable resources. You're not the only ones who can do research." He nodded his head backwards. "I've got the extraction team waiting just outside this hotel; they're covering all the exits. They learned their lesson last time not to leave their vehicles unattended around you girls."

"Why are you doing this, Riley?" Buffy demanded, her voice cold as she glared at her former boyfriend.

"I'm here for Faith," the Marine curtly answered his girlfriend. "I've come to take her back to the Initiative. She's too dangerous to just be walking around free."

Both women's bodies tensed at the soldier's bold words. "What makes you think I'm just going to let you take her from me?" the blonde girl retorted. She balled her hands into tight fists at her sides.

Faith glanced sideways at the Californian, shocked by her choice of words.

Riley shook his head. "You can't keep protecting a murderer, Buffy," he stated gruffly. "And I can't keep you out of this forever. Her crimes are going to catch up with her sooner or later, and I don't want to see you involved. I know you don't feel the same way, but I _do _love you."

"Murderer? Crimes?" the elder slayer cried in disbelief. "She's already made her amends for what happened. We've all moved past that…and besides," Buffy noted, glancing at her sister Slayer, "it was an accident."

Riley snorted and crossed his arms across his broad chest. "How do you_ accidentally _feed two military scientists to a vampire?"

"What are you talking about?" Buffy's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at the boy's words.

"Some hostile with a penchant for gambling with kittens was apparently bragging to his associates about how he'd helped the Slayer kill some of our men," Riley informed them. "Loyalty doesn't run too thick in the demon community, apparently, and we got word from one of our informants." The boy looked smug about the discovery.

"You _fucker_," Faith growled at the Marine between clenched teeth.

Buffy brought a hand up to her mouth in horror. She stared at Faith to gauge her reaction, but the Boston girl only glared at the Iowan soldier with venom in her eyes.

"Faith," Buffy whispered, her large green eyes trained on the girl with whom she had become so close over the past few weeks. "Tell me he's lying. Please," she implored.

Faith gnashed her back teeth together, causing the muscles and bones in her jaw to twitch and flex. "I can't."

The tears that quickly flooded her vision surprised Buffy. Her bottom lip quivered in anger and betrayal. "How could you?" she whispered. "How could you lie to me all this time and pretend like you'd done nothing wrong?" she demanded. "I thought you had changed, Faith!"

"I had!" the Boston teen protested, looking desperately at the California slayer. "I _did_…you have to believe me, Buffy," she begged. "But-but then those fuckers _tortured me _and put a chip in my head! They had to pay, B," Faith insisted vehemently. "They had to pay for what they did to me!"

"You can't go playing God, Faith – deciding who gets to die and who gets to live!" the blonde declared animatedly. She could feel the hot tears dripping down her cheeks and she wiped uselessly at her face.

"Well you and the Super Friends certainly weren't doing anything to stop the Intiative." Faith pointed accusingly at the Marine. "The government has _no place _messing with our world. This operation is bad news, B, and you know it. Demons are a Slayer's job – not Uncle Sam's."

"You're fucking the enemy, Buffy!" Faith's thick lips twisted into a cruel smile when she realized what she had just said. "Which, I suppose is nothing new for you," she rasped bitterly.

Buffy looked up, the tears no longer falling. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

"I've heard enough, Faith." Her voice sounded flat and emotionless, and her eyes appeared hard. She looked over at the Iowan. "Go ahead and take her."

TBC


	13. Chapter 12

The blonde girl sat up straight in bed. Her skin felt sweaty despite the cool breeze blowing through her open bedroom window. The thin curtains billowed gently in the wind. "What am I doing?" she muttered aloud to no one. Buffy threw the covers off her body in anger. "I can't believe I'm going to do this," she ranted. "Again."

The slayer stomped over to her closet and yanked the door open. She scanned the chaotic mess of clothing for a moment before hastily grabbing a black turtleneck sweater and dark jeans. Quickly slipping out of her yummy sushi pajamas and into the less conspicuous clothing, Buffy grabbed a dark pair of boots and began to creep down the stairwell to the first floor.

"Where are yougoing?" came an annoying voice.

Buffy tensed momentarily before she quickly recognized the grating voice. "Go back to bed, Dawn," she mumbled over her shoulder and continued down the staircase.

"No," the teen girl protested, stubbornly crossing her arms across her nightshirt. "I wanna know where you're going." Dawn began to slowly descend the stairs one at a time, stomping a little on each step as if she wanted to wake their mother up.

Buffy sat down on the hardwood floor. "It's none of your business," she scowled as she pulled on her knee-high boots over her skinny jeans.

"Can I go?" Dawn asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," Buffy hissed, flashing her hazel-green eyes at her obnoxious younger sister.

"Why? Is it dangerous?" the youngest Summers girl pressed. She sat down on the stairs and hugged her knees to her chest. "Is it _slayer _stuff?"

"No, I'm sneaking out to go see my boyfriend," the blonde girl lied.

Dawn's nose wrinkled. "Gross."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Buffy mumbled under her breath. "Go back to bed, Dawn," the elder woman commanded.

"I'm gonna tell Mom," Dawn threatened as she started to stand up.

Buffy clenched a fist and shook it at her sister. "Wake her up and I'll never let you borrow my clothes again."

"You already don't let me borrow your clothes," the sassy teen pointed out.

Buffy sighed and rubbed her face briskly with the palms of her hands. "Fine," she muttered through clenched teeth. "If you go back to bed and don't tell Mom about this, I'll let you borrow my new Elie Tahari top."

The brunette girl squealed quietly. "And your leather boots?" Dawn pressed.

"You can't even fit into my shoes," Buffy complained. "Why would you want to borrow them?"

The youngest Summers girl shrugged. "I'll manage," she stated.

The California slayer mumbled under her breath, words about wishing she had been an only child. "Fine," she grunted, standing up. "The Tahari top and the boots for your silence."

Dawn descended the final steps and shook Buffy's extended hand. "It's a deal," she grinned. "Now hurry up and go save Faith."

The blonde slayer's jaw dropped as she watched the teenager climb back up the stairs. "How did you…?" she trailed off, amazed by her younger sister's sleuthing skills.

Halfway up the staircase, the young brunette spun to look at her sister. "You're not the only one who knows stuff," she grinned before turning again and sprinting up the remaining stairs and out of sight.

Buffy smiled wistfully at the space where her younger sister had been standing. Finally, shaking her head and grabbing her black jacket off a wall hook in the foyer, she exited her Revello Drive home. Her little sister certainly was full of surprises.

"It's nice to see you're awake."

Dr. Walsh stood by the battered Marine's infirmary bedside and smiled down at the young man. The corn-fed soldier had been rushed to the Initiative's underground hospital facilities and his injuries treated after being attacked by the dark-haired slayer.

Riley stretched his stiff legs out on the hospital cot. "I feel alright…considering…" He looked down at his arm, which remained in a cast and splint.

"Considering a girl handed you your ass, you mean?" a soldier in the next infirmary bed taunted with a wide grin.

"I'd like to see how _you'd _fare in a room with a Slayer, Private," Riley snapped. "Keep up that lip and I'll make sure she finds _you _next."

The Iowa man glanced back at the small woman apologetically. He never liked getting angry in front of women, not even his superior. "Dr. Walsh," he questioned, calming himself down. "Why _was _Faith able to hit me? Is her chip malfunctioning?"

"No, Riley," the scientist frowned. "Her behavior modifier is working just fine. All the tests, in fact, are going better than anticipated."

"I don't understand then," the sandy-haired boy admitted. "How was she able to hurt me?"

Professor Walsh hesitated before her prized Marine. "I didn't want you to find out this way, Riley," she slowly apologized. "But you're not exactly human anymore."

"Spike!" Buffy called out in the dark crypt. "Get your dead ass up here."

The sound of something breaking, followed by a string of expletives, echoed off the concrete walls in the musty room. A bleach-blonde head of hair appeared out of a square hole in the floor. Spike pulled himself out of the hole, which led to his lower level crypt. He was barefoot and wore only dark, denim pants.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Slayer?" he grumbled, his pale face twisted in a grimace. "Seems like this is gettin' to be a habit between you and the other one."

"Faith's been trapped by Initiative again," the blonde slayer stated. Buffy picked up one of Spike's black t-shirts from off the dusty floor and wrinkled her nose. She threw the offensive garment at the man. "Get dressed because you're going to help me get her out."

Spike begrudgingly pulled on the t-shirt over his head. "And why should I help you, Slayer?" he drawled. "I should be bathing in your blood right about now."

"Save it, Spike," Buffy sighed. She hated needing the soulless vampire's help, but she didn't want to put her friends in danger again. "I know you helped Faith murder those scientists from the Initiative. So that means you know where another entrance is to their facilities. You're going to take me there."

The ancient demon picked up a hard pack of Marlboro Reds and fished a cigarette out of the container. "You still haven't answered me, pet," the vampire continued lazily, propping the cancer stick at the end of his pale lips. "Why should I help you rescue another Slayer? Seems like it's in my best interest to keep her locked up. One less of _your _kind to worry about."

Buffy pulled her answer out of the inner lining of her dark jacket. "Or I just stake you right now and you won't have anything to worry about ever again," the blonde quipped in return, spinning the wooden stake between her fingers like a baton.

Spike scowled at the experienced slayer. "Fine. I'll help you," he grumbled, tossing the unlit cigarette onto the ground. The soulless creature grabbed his leather duster from off a stone casket. "But only because I like the other slayer more than I do you," he clarified. "She's loads more fun. Maybe she'll help you dislodge that stake up your –,"

"What _is it _with everyone thinking I take things too seriously?" the Californian demanded, tossing her hands in the air.

Spike grinned at the former cheerleader. "C'mon, Slayer. Let's go save the day."

"Ouch! You're standing on my foot!" Xander complained loudly.

"Quiet!" his redheaded friend hushed, peering into the darkness. "I think I hear something."

The former vengeance demon frowned. "I still don't know why I have to be here," she grumbled. Her nose twitched slightly. "It smells over here," Anya whined. "Why do we have to be standing here?"

Xander, Willow, Anya, and Tara stood hunched behind the side of a campus building just outside of Riley's fraternity house. As soon as night fell, the four friends had met at the UC-Sunnydale location, knowing that an entrance to the underground military facility was located inside the Greek house.

"Wills, not to be unfeminist-y or anything…" Xander started.

"You know there's a better word for that, right?" Tara smiled softly at the disgruntled boy.

Xander frowned and shook his head. "Anyway, if only one of us is gonna go down there, shouldn't it be me? I mean, I'm the one with the military training and all," he reminded the three females.

"Sure, but only because you went all G.I. Joe during that one Halloween," Willow pointed out in hushed tones. "_I'm_ the one who can levitate pencils," she added.

"How are floating pencils going to help us get Faith out of jail?" Anya abruptly asked.

The redhead scowled. "It's just a microcosm, you guys," she complained. "I can do _witchy _things. I can do defensive and offensive-type spells and protect myself _and_ get Faith out of there in a jiffy."

"What does peanut butter have to do with any of this?" asked the perplexed former demon.

"Why didyou bring her, anyway?" Willow sighed, looking at her life-long friend.

"Hey!" Anya huffed, crossing her arms sternly. "I'm an important and integral part of the group!"

"What exactly _is it _that you do though, Anya?" the redheaded witch asked. "Besides count your money?"

"I provide well-timed sarcasm and helpful criticism," the former vengeance demon insisted. She grabbed onto her boyfriend's arm and continued to look sullen.

"Uh, g-guys?" Tara interrupted. She pointed toward Riley's fraternity house. "Two big guys just went inside. I th-think it's go time."

Willow giggled nervously. "You just said, 'Go time' like you're all military girl." She nuzzled her nose on the curvy blonde's soft cheek. "You're _so_ cute, my little G.I. Jane!"

Tara blushed and smiled. "N-no, _you're _the cute one," she murmured happily.

"Right, like I'm _far _less helpful than the two lesbians," Anya muttered sourly.

Willow kissed her girlfriend lightly on the lips. "I'll be back before you know it," she promised the nervous blonde.

Tara gave the experienced witch a lopsided grin. "I know you can do it," she breathed.

Xander gave his friend a reluctant smile. "Good luck, Wills. If you need reinforcements, you know what to do."

Willow nodded once. "I blow something up."

The redheaded Wicca gave her girlfriend and her best friend's hands a squeeze before standing up and scampering quickly towards the darkened fraternity house. Muttering a Latin verse under her breath, she mentally crossed her fingers that her invisibility spell would last until she at least got underground. She knew the spell was unstable, but as long as no one touched her, she would remain hidden and undetected.

She winced when the front door screamed loudly on its aging hinges, but slipped inside the campus house seemingly undetected. The wooden floorboards creaked with every hesitant step as she crept closer to the not-so-secret elevator that led down to the government facility.

Two lumbering co-eds stood expectantly outside the closet door that masked the elevator shaft. The doors opened with a soft whooshing sound and the two civilian-dressed men stepped into the narrow compartment. Willow hesitated momentarily as she eyeballed the confined space in which she would be forced to squeeze. The doors began to close, however, and she rushed forward. Sensing a body, the doors reopened wide.

Mental alarms exploded in the redhead's brain. Was she caught? Would the two soldiers with whom she currently shared the elevator compartment know that something wasn't right?

"Stupid elevator," one of the men muttered aloud. He moved and pushed the "Close Door" button again. "I keep telling Gates he needs to put a Work Order in for this thing."

The other man grunted, but remained wordless as the stainless steel doors finally clicked closed and the box began to move downwards into the ground. The witch held her breath as the elevator continued to travel into the earth. She felt like she was seven again and she and Xander were holding their breath as they bicycled past Restville Cemetery so they wouldn't breathe in an evil spirits. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't such a goofy old superstition after all.

The elevator lurched slightly as the rectangular vehicle reached its destination. The doors opened with another whooshing sound and the redhead took the opportunity to breathe out and in deeply, letting the mechanical noises mask her own breathing.

Willow slipped out of the elevator door behind the two men. She waited for the Marines to walk a safe distance away before she began her quest to find the rogue slayer. Thanking her lucky Goddess for managing to make it this far, still invisible, the redheaded Wicca turned the next corner.

"You know, Slayer," the vampire stated as he turned another corner. "You might be able to fool your friends, but you can't fool me."

Buffy made a face and pulled a stringy cobweb out of her hair. "This is so disgusting," she complained. "Why couldn't the Initiative have a front door like every other respectable business?"

"Maybe cause they're _not _a respectable business?" Spike pointed out.

The blonde girl pursed her lips. "Touché. And what am I supposedly fooling my friends about?"

Spike turned to look back at the blonde girl as she struggled to maintain her cool around so many bugs and insects in the underground tunnels. "The real reason why you want to save Faith," he stated.

Buffy raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Uh, because that's what I do? Help the helpless?"

"Or else..." Spike leered, "you just wanna get inside her hot little pants."

Buffy stopped walking. "I do not!" she declared. "You're such a pig sometimes, Spike."

Spike smiled around his pursed lips. "Can't say I blame ya, Love. That one's a hot little number. Wouldn't mind grabbing onto those curvy hips and…"

Buffy covered her hands over her ears. "This is not happening. I've died and I'm in Hell."

The vampire chuckled. "Aw, bugger off, Slayer. I know you're not risking your finely toned limbs just cause it's your Sacred Duty and all that bloody rubbish. You like her. She gets you. And as much as you might have yourself convinced that your cardboard soldier boyfriend is what you want, he can't understand you the way _she _does. He's not part of this life."

Buffy tried hard not to let the vampire's word's affect her. What did _Spike _of all people know about any of this? "Even if I did…" Buffy started, a scowl on her face, "I wouldn't talk to _you _about it."

The bleach blonde vampire scoffed. "Right. Like you would just go gossipin' to your mates about this then? You know they would never be able to handle the truth about you, Slayer. You like a little monster in your man…. or woman, so it would seem."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at the undead man. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here."

"Because as much as you might hate me, you need me to help get your honey back," the ancient vampire answered without hesitation.

Buffy opened her mouth to accost the soulless man, but deciding against it, closed her mouth instead. She followed the vampire silently through the dark, underground tunnels, and they turned another corner.

"Why did I volunteer for this?" Willow quietly lamented. "And why did everyone think this was such a good idea? No, Xander, I don't care that you're the one pseudo-trained to do this. I'm just a big 'ol Feminist. I don't need a man. Gotta do it myself. Way to go, Willow," she anxiously muttered to herself.

So far, the redhead had managed to traverse the underground building completely undetected, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her cover was blown. That's how these things worked, after all.

She paused to look at a conveniently located map to gauge how much further she needed to go before she came upon the cell area where she hoped to find Faith.

The redhead bit her bottom lip and checking her courage, turned the next corner.

Buffy turned around the corner and slammed into an invisible wall. The air rushed out of her lungs and the invisible wall quickly turned into her redheaded best friend.

"Willow!" Buffy hissed, her eyes focusing on the girl who seemingly hadn't been there a second ago. "What are you doing here?"

The witch looked anxiously around to make sure no one could see them, now that she was visible again. "Saving Faith," she whispered in reply. "What are _you _doing here?" she asked incredulously.

"Saving Faith!" Buffy responded.

Willow gave her close friend a goofy smile. "Oh," she paused. "Well good. But just remember that it was _my_ idea first."

Buffy chuckled despite their precarious surroundings. "You got it, Wills," she nodded once. "You're totally the hero this time."

"How did you get in here?" Willow asked in hushed tones. She indicated that she and the slayer should keep walking.

Buffy made a face as she followed her close friend around another corner. "I got Spike to help me."

Willow stopped in her tracks. "_Spike? _As in vampire Spike who kills people for fun?"

Buffy twisted her mouth. "Uh-huh. But he knows the Initiative, Will. We went through these icky tunnels and he actually got me into the place. How did _you _get in?"

"I took the elevator," the Wicca smiled smugly. "Where's Spike now?"

Buffy waved her hand. "He took off as soon as we broke in. Said he'd done his job and that he wasn't going to risk getting caught to help out a Slayer, hot or not."

The witch pursed her lips together. "Well that was nice of him," she considered.

Buffy nodded once and smiled. "I thought so, too."

"Maybe you should get him a thank you present," Willow suggested, turning animatedly to look at her blonde friend. "A fruit basket might be nice."

Buffy held up her hand and placed a finger against her lips, stopping Willow and her excited babble. Two girls rushed into a shallow doorway and remained hidden with their backs flat against a wall as two lab-coated scientists walked around a corner and out of sight.

"C'mon," Buffy urged quietly. "Faith's cell has gotta be this way."

The two women cautiously walked down a long corridor, lined with sterile-looking cells on either side of the hall. "That's weird," the slayer muttered. "There used to be dozens of demons in these rooms. I wonder what happened to them?"

"Maybe the Initiative let them go?" the witch naively suggested.

Buffy held her breath as she turned the corner and walked towards the location where the dark-haired slayer had once been held. She hoped that the military was as predictable as her ex-boyfriend and had placed her back in her former cell. The Californian breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the dangerous brunette sitting on a small, military-issue cot in the center of the same small, white room. Faith looked blankly ahead, staring at the large plane of glass that served as a wall and a door.

Willow waved her hand at the rogue slayer, but her presence failed to register with the trapped woman. "Why can't she see us?" she worried to her blonde friend. "Did they make her blind?"

Buffy frowned and shook her head. "They must have replaced it with a one-sided mirror," she suggested. "Why would they make a Slayer blind?"

Buffy stared at the breathtaking girl. The dark slayer was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. Even in the telltale orange jumper, she looked dangerously sexy. "She looks good," Buffy murmured, more to herself than to the witch. The slayer snapped her green eyes towards her best friend. "I just mean, compared to last time when we saved her," she hastily explained.

"Step back," the witch calmly instructed, ignoring the slayer's verbal slip. She muttered something unintelligible and orange sparks flew out of her fingertips. Using her hand like a blowtorch, the experienced witch melted a person-shaped hole in the glass wall.

Buffy gave her best friend an impressed look. "Pretty fancy, Wills," she admired.

The redhead blushed slightly. "I thought this might be easier than explosives. Quieter too – they won't even know there's been a security breach because we haven't done anything to the door's lock."

Buffy ducked her head slightly and slid into the Boston girl's cell. A flash of bright white light filled her eyes when she felt the blow to her cranium.

"What the Hell?" she yelled, grabbing at her head.

The dark-haired slayer began to laugh uncontrollably, holding her sides. "Damn girl," she laughed pleasantly. "Good thing you've got such a thick skull, B. Anyone else and they woulda gotten brain damage."

Buffy shook her head from side to side as if readjusting her brain mass. "I wouldn't be so sure," she complained lowly.

"Wait a minute," Buffy began, looking perplexed. "You just hurt me, but _you're _not hurt. What's going on?"

Faith shrugged. "Dunno," she admitted. "They did something to me and I can hurt humans again."

"Oh joy," the redhead deadpanned as she wiggled into the cell, catching up on the two slayers' conversation. "Looks like we got here just in time."

Faith held up her hands in protest. "Hey, don't get all judgmental on me, Red. Now I only kill those that deserve it," she grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.

"We need to move fast," Willow muttered, wanting to ignore the tiny voice in her head that told her to lock Faith back up. "I'm sure someone heard that squeal."

"Squeal?" Buffy protested. "I do not _squeal_!"

Faith chuckled. "If it walks like a pig and talks like a pig," the dark girl teased. "Wait a minute, B," she stopped. "What are _you _doing here anyway? Last time I saw you, you were basically shacklin' me up and handin' me over to your Clean Marine."

Buffy scrunched her eyebrows together and frowned guiltily. "We can talk about that later. Right now we just need to get out of here."

"She's right. C'mon, Faith," Willow urged, grabbing onto the rogue slayer's elbow. "The exit's this way."

The Boston girl scowled at her would-be-rescuers and wiggled out of the Wicca's light grasp. "I can't leave yet," she grunted stubbornly. "The Initiative needs to be destroyed."

"I know it does, Fai," Buffy agreed, nodding her head. "But just not tonight, okay? We'll go back, regroup, and come back to fight another day."

Faith's eyes focused on movement down the hallway. "Looks like we're gonna fight today too," she grinned manically. The Boston girl squirmed through the hole in the glass wall and sprinted down the hallway and away from Buffy and Willow.

Faith rushed toward two armed soldiers doing their rounds. Moving quickly, the Boston girl launched her elbow into one of the Marine's throats, momentarily cutting off his air supply. The soldier dropped to the floor, blacking out. The remaining man reached for the tazer in his heavy gun belt, but the Boston girl effortlessly knocked it out of his hands. The weapon skidded along the sterile, tile floor and bashed into a cinderblock wall.

Faith kicked the man in the gut, knocking him slightly backwards. Ever since she had returned to the Initiative, she felt unnaturally strong, graceful, and powerful. Beating up on Riley had seemingly awoken something dormant inside her. Grabbing onto of the Marine's wrists, Faith twisted hard and tossed him over her back. The inept soldier vaulted through the air, slamming into a solid wall, and crumpled onto the floor with a loud groan.

The Marine rolled over and onto his back, his eyes closed tight in a silent grimace. His legs squirmed on the ground and he battled the pain. Faith cocked her clenched fist back, ready to attack the vulnerable man again, when she felt a strong hand grab onto her forearm.

"Don't get in my way, B," the dark slayer growled, instinctively knowing her sister-Slayer's touch. She didn't look back at the blonde girl, but instead remained glaring down at the uncomfortable soldier. "I've got some unfinished business to take care off."

"Faith," Buffy stated calmly, not letting go. "Faith," she repeated, "let's go home."

The Boston girl looked lost to her rage as she continued to stare wildly at the two unconscious soldiers. But after a moment, she blinked hard and turned her puzzled gaze toward the blonde woman. She dropped her menacing fist when the blonde released her arm. "Home, B?" Faith looked confused as if the word didn't register in her brain.

"With me," the blonde slayer stated simply. Buffy held out her hand and waited for the younger woman to take the gesture.

Faith blinked hard once again and glanced between the fallen Marines and her sister-Slayer's welcoming hand. She wanted to destroy the Initiative from the inside out, but doing so would mean rejecting what she had always wanted – Buffy.

Looking up and meeting the hopeful glimmer in the elder slayer's hazel-green eyes, the Boston-born slayer gave the blonde a small smile.

And finally took her hand.

TBC

12


	14. Chapter 13

After thanking the Scoobies one more time for their joint effort in helping Faith escape from the Initiative again, the Chosen Two made their way back to the Summers' residence in complete silence. Neither woman knew quite what to say to the other.

Faith pondered how it came to be that both Buffy and the Super Friends had risked their safety again to help her, especially in light of discovering she had a hand in the death of those military scientists. Moreover, she questioned what was going on with her body. She had been able to severely injure the blonde slayer's cardboard boyfriend and two other Marines. But her head showed no signs that the Initiative had removed the chip from her cranium. The Boston girl wrestled with whether to tell her sister-Slayer about what Riley had revealed to her – that the Initiative was planning on rendering the slayers powerless. She knew it was important information, but she didn't know if Buffy would ever trust her again.

Buffy struggled with her own silent thoughts as they made their way toward her mother's house. Faith had killed again, but technically she hadn't _killed_ those two men. At the time, she couldn't even _hurt _anyone. But did that matter? Was it important that her hands weren't stained with the blood of the Initiative's scientists when she would have killed them herself if the chip had not reined her in? Should she have to go back to prison because of it? Or would that make her more vulnerable to the Initiative? But now that the behavior modifier appeared to be malfunctioning, what would keep Faith from killing again? Would Buffy ever be able to trust her again?

But even as the blonde slayer grappled with deciphering Right from Wrong, she worried more that perhaps her younger counterpart might never trust _her _again. Faith had sacrificed herself so the Initiative wouldn't capture her, yet how did Buffy repay the selfless gesture? By handing her over to the clandestine military operation. Buffy knew both women would have to talk in order to begin to rebuild their friendship. They couldn't continue to literally dance around the issues from their shared past or mend it with tubs of ice cream.

The two slayers crept through the front door of the Revello Drive home. Buffy silently closed the heavy wooden door behind her. "Try not to make a lot of noise. My Mom doesn't know I snuck out," she explained in hushed tones. She shrugged out of her dark denim jacket and hung it on a vacant wall hook.

Faith cast her eyes toward the living room. "Don't suppose Joyce will expect to see me crashed out on her couch, eh?" she muttered gruffly.

The blonde blushed. The flush on her cheeks was salient even though the dim foyer was only lit by streetlamps and moonlight through the front windows. "No. I, uhm, told her you were still in Los Angeles," she admitted quietly.

The Boston girl's mouth twisted into a frown. "Guess that's as good of a lie as any."

"You should probably stay upstairs tonight anyways so she doesn't wake you up in the morning," Buffy reasoned. "Mom's a pretty early riser."

"So I should take the guest room then?" Faith asked.

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows. "Guest room? You wanna stay in the East Wing while you're at it?" she lightly teased. "I don't live in a mansion ya know."

"What about that empty bedroom around the corner from yours?" Faith pointed out. "What do you call that?"

"You mean _Dawn's _room?" the blonde asked, shaking her head.

Faith sighed with frustration and threw her arms in the air. "How do you have a little sister?" she lamented. "I don't understand!"

"Well, Faith, when a man and a woman love each other very much…" the elder slayer started with a smirk.

Faith scowled playfully. "Thanks for the sex-ed lesson, smart ass."

"C'mon," Buffy urged, taking Faith's sweaty hand in her own. "You'll just have to bunk with me again."

"What do you mean I'm not _human _anymore?" Riley demanded, struggling to sit up despite his broken and bruised body.

Maggie Walsh placed a firm hand against the soldier's broad chest and restrained him back on the hospital bed. "Easy, soldier," she instructed sternly. "You're still injured, don't forget."

Riley rested his head back on his pillow, closed his eyes tightly, and worked to control his breathing. "So what you're telling me is, the reason Faith was able to hit me isn't because the technology malfunctioned, but because _I'm _different?"

Dr. Walsh sighed and sat down near the Marine's hospital cot. "Ever since you've been assigned to this operation, we've been putting steroids and various other performance enhancers into your vitamins and food. We do that for all the Marines on this detail because of the nature of your…unique mission." The scientist paused to look around the small hospital ward as if to ascertain if it was safe to continue.

"Our goal at the Initiative has not just been to contain and rehabilitate hostile demon behavior," Walsh noted, "but also to learn from these remarkable creatures and hone their paranormal behaviors. If we can harness what, for example, makes a Slayer so remarkably strong, then we can alter our own soldiers appropriately."

Riley remained silent, his lips pressed together in a tight line. But he nodded, urging the government scientist to continue.

"We originally wanted to test the demon compounds on the Slayer," the woman continued, growing more animated as the story unveiled itself. "But after a few trial runs, it was clear that the demon essence didn't have the desired effect on the girl."

"So you tested them on me," Riley interrupted. "And since Faith was able to hit me, that proves that my genetic make-up has been changed just enough to bypass her behavioral modifier." The Iowan draped his arm across his eyes, hiding from the small woman.

"Yes." Maggie Walsh nodded. "You and a few of our other top Marines," the scientist confirmed. "We were already putting additives into your vitamins, so it was relatively easy to administer the new enhancements."

Riley looked up again, his normally boyish features twisted in anguish and despair.

"But what about making the Slayers human?" he demanded.

The Iowa-born soldier had internally justified aiding the Initiative in their experiments with the brunette slayer because he believed the military would be able to make Buffy a normal girl again. And then Buffy and he could be happy together – the way it was supposed to be.

Dr. Walsh sighed. "Riley," she cajoled. "I know how you feel about all of this, but it's more to our advantage to _enhance_ humans rather than make everyone the same. Just think," she continued excitedly, "if we had _armies _of slayers and enhanced soldiers, we could make the world safe again. This is the real world, Finn, not the story 'Harrison Bergeron.'"

The hospital ward phone jangled loudly, interrupting the scientist and the soldier's conversation. An army nurse, dressed all in white, rushed over to Riley's bedside. "Dr. Walsh," the young woman called. "There's an urgent call for you."

Maggie Walsh stood from her chair and patted her favored Marine on the hand. "Chin up, soldier," she coaxed. "You'll thank me for this later."

Riley watched as his mentor walked away. It would take a while to process all that the military scientist had revealed to him, yet he grinned manically. If the government's scientists wouldn't make Buffy a normal girl, _he _would change instead. He would become what she wanted – a monster.

Faith stared at the painted ceiling with one arm propped under her head like a pillow. She wiggled her backside into the bed, enjoying the feeling of Buffy's sheets wrapped around her body. She breathed in deeply and smelled the delicate perfume of the blonde slayer engulfing her like a warm, comforting blanket. Although the first few times she had shared a bed with her elder counterpart had been filled with intense sexual tension and unease, she was beginning to get used to feeling the other girl's body heat next to her.

"Faith?"

The Boston girl turned her head to meet the smoldering gaze of her sister-Slayer. _Okay, so maybe it really wasn't getting easier._

"Yeah, B?" the dark-haired woman responded, her voice its usual husky rasp.

Buffy subtly maneuvered closer in bed to the younger slayer. Faith hissed quietly as she felt the left side of her body become increasingly warmer; Buffy's skin radiated heat like a raging fire. And it didn't help that the dark slayer knew her blonde partner was only wearing tiny shorts and a tight tank top.

"I'm sorry about everything," the blonde quietly apologized, staring at the young girl's face through the darkness of her bedroom. "I never should have let Riley take you away."

"S'ok, B," Faith shrugged, turning away to look up at the ceiling once again.

Buffy turned on her side and propped herself up on her elbow, facing the younger girl. "I don't want you to brush it off like I didn't hurt you, Fai. We should really talk about all of this."

She placed a soft hand on Faith's stomach. The material of the brunette's tank top had ridden up with her movements, and the blonde was slightly shocked when her palm came in contact with naked Faith flesh. Buffy felt the strong, yet feminine abdominal muscles flex under her unexpected touch. There was a solidness to the girl's body, but a shocking softness that was so unlike touching Riley.

Faith looked down at her stomach and the telltale bump under the duvet cover that was Buffy's hand. The blonde hadn't removed her hand when she felt the bare flesh and was now slowly stroking just the pad of her thumb across the skin. The Boston girl closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Buffy wanted to _talk_, but Faith could only focus on the delicious sensations the innocent touch had sparked.

"I, ah, I know why you thought you had to do it, B," the brunette tried, hating the way her voice cracked like a prepubescent boy. "I should have told you about Spike and those scientists. I'm sorry, too."

Buffy wiggled even closer, her kneecaps bumping into the sides of Faith's long legs. Her hand slid down to a jutting hipbone and rested there. The Boston girl squeezed her thighs together and bit her lower lip to keep from groaning out into the night.

"Because I really want us to be friends again, Faith," the blonde insisted, unaware of how her touch was distracting the younger girl. "And I know we've got a long way to go before we can really trust each other again, but I want this to work."

"Uh-huh," Faith panted, not really hearing the words, only feeling the slayer's delicate touch.

"I suppose it's getting late," Buffy mused, giving the brunette's hipbone a squeeze. "We can talk more in the morning if you want," the blonde murmured. "Nite, Faith." She pressed her lips against the side of the brunette's temple and turned over on her other side to go to sleep.

Faith released one long breath; the air coming out in shuddered gasps. _Yeah, this wasn't getting any easier._

"What do you mean the girl is _gone_?" Maggie Walsh demanded.

A nervous soldier responded, glad that he was phoning the head scientist rather than having to face her in person. "Woods and Brooks failed to return from rounds," the Marine told the woman. "I went to look for them and found them both unconscious outside the Slayer's containment cell. She's not in there and it looks like the glass was blow-torched."

"Blow-torched?" Walsh yelled into the phone. "How is that possible? NASA uses that material on the spaceships!"

The man on the other end of the call sputtered and stuttered uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Dr. Walsh. I don't know what to tell you."

Walsh slammed her palm against the hospital ward wall on which the phone was mounted. "Damn it," she growled into the receiver. "I want a full written report from you, and alert me as soon as Woods or Brooks are coherent."

"Yes ma'am," the soldier agreed. The scientist could almost hear the discombobulated soldier salute over the phone.

Dr. Walsh hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. She ran her fingers through her shortly cropped hair and grimaced. This was disturbing news indeed, but the scientist had only feigned anger at the Marine. In reality they had gotten everything they needed from the girl. Besides, she mused to herself, the chip in the Slayer's head would soon kill her anyway.

The early morning sunlight shone brightly through the windows of Buffy's second floor bedroom. Faith breathed in deeply, stretching her arms above her head. After having to sleep on an army-issue cot, Buffy's bed felt like sleeping on clouds. She turned her head to seek out her bedmate, but discovered that the blonde girl was gone. Faith stretched her arm out to feel the other side of the bed and grinned when she could still sense the residual body heat.

The Boston girl breathed in again through her nose and smiled when she could make out the slight hint of chocolate chip pancakes coming from downstairs. Throwing the covers off of her long limbs, the dark-haired slayer jumped out of bed and trampled down the stairs toward the kitchen.

As she turned the corner into the back room, a squeal assailed her ears and she felt tight arms claps tightly around her waist. "Faith!" the high-pitched voice exclaimed. "You're back!"

The Boston slayer tensed and looked down to see a strange brunette teenager in pajamas hugging her waist. "Hey, uhm, you," she hesitated.

Faith looked up, panic in her eyes as she sought out Buffy. Dark chocolate eyes met hazel-green. The small blonde slayer's mouth was twisted into a smirk at the sight of her gangly sister wrapped around the surprised dark slayer.

"_Dawn," _Buffy complained, emphasizing the girl's name for Faith's benefit. "Let go of Faith," she insisted. "At least wait until she's gotten some breakfast before you start hanging all over her."

The youngest Summers girl begrudgingly released her stranglehold on the Boston slayer. "Fine," she harrumphed and grumpily crossed her arms across her chest.

Buffy turned her back on the two just in time to flip another chocolate chip pancake before it burned in the saucepan.

"You cook?" Faith asked, surprised, as she took a seat at the kitchen island. She picked at the bowl of fruit on the counter and fished out a piece of cantaloupe.

Buffy vicariously balanced four flapjacks on the end of the spatula and placed them on the empty plate in front of the brunette slayer. "Pancakes aren't that hard," she admitted, shrugging slightly. "I usually burn them, but I'm doing pretty good this morning."

Dawn snorted from her perch on another of the kitchen stools. "Yeah," she snickered, chewing idly on a piece of fruit. "Don't ask her to cook anything else. Buffy can't even boil water," she grinned sassily.

The Boston girl eagerly poured a generous helping of syrup on her stack of pancakes. She shoveled a large bite into her open mouth and grinned around the food. "Nice work, B," she chomped. "These are good." The slayer took a long sip from the glass of milk that appeared before her. "Where's Mrs. S this morning?" she asked, looking around the kitchen for the absent woman.

"Mom's at work already," Dawn explained as she noisily chewed on her serving of pancakes. "We should drop by the art gallery. I bet she'd love to see you," she smiled at the younger slayer.

Buffy gave her overly attached sister a stern look. "Not today," she admonished. "Faith and I have some important research to do at the Magic Shop," she informed the other two girls.

"Aw, c'mon, Buffy. I wanted to hang out with Faith," the youngest Summers girl complained loudly. "You always monopolize her time."

"Yeah, B. I didn't really envision doin' research on my first day…." She glanced at the brunette teen quickly, "first day back from LA," she corrected herself.

Dawn stabbed her fork into her pile of mangled pancakes. "You don't have to pretend around me, Faith," the teen scowled. "I know you weren't really in LA. Even though Buffy never tells me anything, I do pretty well on my own." The young girl's head snapped up and a glimmer lightened up her lively eyes. "In fact, if you ever want to read her diary…."

Faith heard a loud gasp of protest come from Buffy. "Dawn!" the blonde slayer yelled threateningly, shaking the spatula at her younger sister.

The teen girl hopped to her feet quickly, and giving the brunette slayer one final grin, she scampered out of the kitchen and noisily stomped up the carpeted stairs toward her room. Faith jumped slightly in her seat when she heard the teen slam the door of her bedroom.

The Boston girl shoveled her final remnants of pancake into her mouth. "You sure she's always been around?" the young slayer questioned playfully. "'Cause seems like it'd be impossible to forget _that girl_."

"I keep telling Mom that I should have been an only child," the California slayer complained lightly. Buffy turned her back on the Boston slayer, busying herself with the sink full of breakfast dishes. The young demon-fighter could hear her elder counterpart grumbling under her breath.

Faith stood up from the kitchen island and brought her empty plate over to the sink. She stalked dangerously close behind the blonde girl. "Thanks for breakfast, B," she murmured just loud enough for the other slayer to hear. Faith stretched her arm to lightly set the dirty dish into the sudsy sink, causing her warm skin to just barely rub against Buffy's forearm.

A small, almost inaudible moan inadvertently left the blonde's mouth and the back of her neck flushed in embarrassment at her unexpected reaction.

Emboldened and encouraged, Faith moved closer, her tank top covered breasts lightly brushing against the smaller woman's back. "Need some help cleaning up, B?" she rasped lowly. She couldn't forget the way Buffy's innocent touching the night before had affected her and hoped that some innocent touching of her own might awaken something that lay dormant inside the elder girl.

"No, I, uhm, I'm fine," the blonde insisted. She shuddered involuntarily when she felt Faith's warm breath tickle the back of her neck.

"So…research at the Magic Shop?" the raven-haired woman purred. "Sure you don't wanna just hang out here?" She innocently placed her hands on the blonde girl's hips.

Buffy cleared her throat anxiously and focused on cleaning the glassware in her hands instead of the hands that rested innocently at her waist. "We, uh, need to figure out why you can hurt humans again," she explained, dutifully continuing to clean the dishes. "And why you don't remember who Dawn is," she added. "I doubt Giles has any books on the subject, but maybe Wills can do a spell to figure out what's going on with your chip."

Faith sighed deeply and took a step away from her blonde counterpart, letting her roaming hands fall away from Buffy's tight body. "Alright," she conceded. The Boston girl scratched idly at the back of her neck. "I'm gonna hop in the shower then, if you've got this covered down here."

"Mmmhmm," Buffy mumbled, focusing on a particularly stubborn fork. "I'm almost done with the dishes and then I'll join you."

Faith laughed nervously and felt her face turn red. "Join me, B? In the shower?"

A plate slipped out of the blonde's hands and splashed loudly in the sink. "No!" she exclaimed, looking up from the dishes. "I, ah, just meant I'd take a shower, too. When you're finished. Not together."

The dark-haired slayer gathered her composure as the elder girl became increasingly nervous. She gave the elder girl a brilliant smile. "Well, B. The offer's always open...ya know…just to conserve water," she winked before sashaying out the kitchen.

Buffy watched the dangerously sexy girl waltz out of her sight. She ran a wet hand through her blonde ponytail. _This wasn't getting any easier._

The bell above the Magic Shop's front entrance jangled loudly as the two slayers stepped out of the early morning sunlight and into the dimly lit store. Before leaving her house, Buffy had called her friends to meet her at Giles' business so that they could start researching why Faith's chip was malfunctioning and why she had no memory of the youngest Summers girl.

"Hey! It's my two favorite slayers!" Xander chirped as the two women walked toward the back part of the store. The novice carpenter sat at the circular table with a pink box of donuts in front of him. "I brought brain food," he happily continued, pointing at the container of pastries.

"Thanks, X-man," the dark-haired woman smiled, grabbing at a jelly filled donut. The eternally hungry slayer took a large bite of the gooey-centered bakery good.

Buffy smirked at her sister-Slayer's endless appetite, but held up a hand when the dark-haired boy offered her the box. "No thanks, Xand. We had pancakes just a little bit ago," the blonde girl explained.

"Pancakes?" came a voice behind the blonde. Buffy turned to see her Wiccan best friend walking up the stairs from the lower level storage area. In her arms were three thick ancient tomes. "Your mom really is the greatest," she gushed. "I'd be lucky if my mom heated me up a bowl of instant oatmeal."

"Actually, the pancakes were all Buffy," the brunette slayer revealed with a mischievous grin. "Girlfriend's been hiding some wicked culinary skills."

"Buffy? Cook? You must be mistaking her for another Slayer," the redheaded witch joked playfully.

Faith took another bite of her powdered, jelly donut. "No really," she insisted, her lips covered in the white sugar, "they were really good."

Buffy instinctively wiped the remnants of the donut from the Boston girl's dangerous mouth. "Demons and Magic Willow will believe in," she chuckled, brushing at Faith's face, "but me with an apron on is too far-fetched of an idea. There," she stated, surveying her work on the raven-haired woman's face. "All clean."

The dark girl beamed at her sister-Slayer. "Thanks, B. How's about we leave the research to the brainy types and go work up a sweat instead?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and jerked her head towards the back training room. "Kinda wanna get my hands on ya now that the chip doesn't work anymore," she grinned mischievously.

The blonde girl matched the younger slayer's grin. "Alright. I'm game," she nodded. Buffy gave her two best friends a smile. "Can you guys handle research for a little bit?"

Xander and the witch nodded wordlessly, their mouths agape. "Uh, yea Buff," Willow stumbled, somehow finding her voice. "You two go have, uhm, fun."

The two slayers linked arms and skipped back to the training room and disappeared behind the back door.

Xander coughed, clearing his throat and running his hand through his hair. "Uh, is it just me, or was that just _weird_. Shouldn't they be, like, hitting and hating each other?"

"Weird indeed," Willow nodded. "C'mon, Xand," she urged, plopping the heavy texts down on the wooden table. "Let's read some books.

"You don't know how much I missed this," the dark girl breathed as she moved her head quickly to avoid the elder slayer's flying fist.

Faith rolled forward and swept her leg across the blue wrestling mat. Her extended limb came in contact with the back of the blonde woman's tensed legs. Buffy flipped backwards, but landed back on her feet rather than her back.

"Probably as much as me," the golden-hair slayer smiled softly.

"And I don't just mean the violence – the fighting," Faith admitted as she kicked the elder girl in the stomach. Buffy grabbed onto the Boston girl's sneaker and jerked upward, flipping the girl backwards. The dangerous girl landed easily on her feet.

Buffy smiled at her slaying partner and brushed an errant blonde lock out of her eyes. "What did you miss then?" she asked, letting her guard down momentarily.

"_You, _of course," the Boston slayer smiled. Faith jumped in the air and swung her leg toward the seemingly defenseless girl. Buffy flipped backwards, vaulting her body out of the way of the dangerous blow.

"Nice moves, Blondie," the dark-haired woman grinned, breathing a little harder.

The two girls danced around each other, slowly circling and trading grazing blows. Faith lunged forward, grabbing the smaller slayer around her tight waist. The two slayers rolled forward with each other's bodies and the inertia of the tackle. Gaining the upper hand, Buffy rolled on top of the taller girl, pinning her on her back and straddling the dangerous brunette's stomach.

"Mm…you know how I like you on top, B," the dark-haired girl murmured playfully, subtly thrusting her pelvic bone upwards so her stomach came in contact with Buffy's covered sex. The blonde couldn't help the small moan that rushed out her lips and the former convict's eyes instantly darkened at the almost inaudible noise.

Faith rested her hands on Buffy's hips. "I could get used to this view," she leered playfully.

"M-maybe I should check on Xander and Willow," the blonde shakily breathed. Her skin felt on fire having only barely sparred with the younger slayer. She pulled herself off of the ground and absentmindedly brushed at her yoga pants. "Y-you stay here. I'll be right back."

Faith chuckled under her breath as she watched the frazzled blonde rush out of the training room. A moment later, the door opened again and the dark-haired boy walked through the opening. "Hey Xand," the girl purred from her position on the ground. "You wanna throw down, too?" she offered lightly.

The boy grinned at the dangerous slayer. "Alright," he agreed, picking up a long sword from off the top of the pummel horse. "But take it easy on me, okay?"

Faith arched her back and flipped off of the mat, gracefully landing on the balls of her feet. "You got it, buddy," she grinned easily. She curled her fingers and beckoned the young man. "Let's dance," she cooed.

Xander took a hesitant step toward the formerly rogue slayer and held the samurai-like sword in front of his body. He took a more confident step and lifted the sword above his head. "Bonsai!" he yelled playfully, rushing forward.

Faith chuckled under her breath and poised her body and fists, ready to slug the boy harmlessly in the shoulder. As Xander clambered forward, she easily dodged the swinging weapon. She lightly thrust her closed fist, barely connecting with the man's open shoulder.

The dark-haired slayer roared in pain as a surge of hot, white pain assaulted her brain. She felt like a fire had spontaneously combusted behind her eyes. Faith immediately dropped to her knees and cried out again, clutched her hands at her throbbing head. She sobbed loudly, her gasps a mixture of tears and screaming.

Buffy rushed through the back door into the training room. "Faith!" she called, rushing over to the girl who lay writhing on the wrestling mat. The blonde fell to her knees beside the girl's huddled form. "What happened?" the girl demanded as she looked up at the awkwardly standing boy.

Xander's jaw dropped open. "N-nothing," he stuttered, taken aback by the rage her saw in the blonde's hazel-green eyes. "We had just started sparring a-and then she just started to scream."

Buffy looked back down at the Boston girl, whose eyes were tightly screwed shut. Her pouting lips were twisted in a painful grimace. The blonde instinctively stroked the side of the younger woman's face. Feeling the soothing and comforting touch, Faith's contorted face immediately relaxed.

"I guess your chip still works," the elder slayer mumbled, stroking the girl's scrunched forehead.

"Ya think?" the dark slayer griped, still wincing slightly.

"But how can it stop and start working like that?" Buffy questioned, helping the girl sit up on the thick blue mat. "You weren't able to spar with me before, but now you are? It just doesn't make any sense. Think about everyone you've been able to hurt," she prodded, helping the girl to stand on her shaky legs. "Are there any connections? Me, those two soldiers…"

The rogue slayer allowed the elder girl to help her to her feet. "Riley…" Faith continued, thinking aloud.

"Riley?" Buffy blurted out, surprised to hear the man's name. She dropped her hands from the brunette's waist. "You hurt Riley?"

The dark-haired girl averted her eyes. "He was the first one, really. I banged him up pretty badly…after…."

Buffy shook her head, not wanting to know any more details. "Well, I guess it kind of makes sense that you're able to hit me," she started, attempting to put the pieces together. "I mean, it's not like you're trying to kill me anymore and I'm not exactly your run-of-the-mill human." She paused to think. "Maybe the Initiative is doing something to alter their soldiers. When Wills and I were down there, all the demons were gone. Do you think they're giving the soldiers demon aspects?"

Faith frowned deeply, a sudden realization troubling her thoughts. "B," she started, looking into the pooling green eyes of her sister-Slayer. "If everything you're saying is true…that means that Riley's not exactly human anymore."

TBC


	15. Chapter 14

"Blondes make the best victims. They're like virgin snow that shows up the bloody footprints." – _Alfred Hitchcock_

"Your mom makes a wicked meatloaf, B." Faith grinned at her sister-Slayer as they patrolled Restville Cemetery. She patted at her slightly extended stomach. "And those garlic smashed potatoes?" The dark-haired girl whistled lowly. "I don't think I've ever eaten that good."

Buffy swung her arms back and forth as she walked, like an exaggerated child. "Oh God, please don't encourage her," the blonde lightly laughed. "If you keep dishing out the compliments, she's gonna make every meal Thanksgiving."

Faith smacked her lips together playfully. "Not gonna complain about that one, B," she grinned.

Faith looked at her sister-Slayer and her eager smile dropped when she saw that the blonde's face appeared lost in thought. All day, the Boston girl had sensed that her slaying partner was holding back. She had been quiet ever since they had returned to the Summers' residence from the Magic Shop, and all throughout dinner with Joyce and Dawn that evening, the California girl had mumbled only a few words. Buffy had barely eaten, in fact, merely pushing her food around her plate before excusing herself to change into clothes for that night's patrol. Now that they were walking through the town's many cemeteries, the Chosen One had slightly loosened up, but she still appeared reserved and overly contemplative.

"You've been awfully quiet today, B," the Boston girl observed, kicking a stone down the narrow gravel path on which they walked together. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Buffy hesitated in her step and glanced fleetingly at her sister-Slayer. "Do you really think Riley would knowing let the Initiative make him less human?"

Faith growled quietly. "After all that that Meathead has done, you're _still _worried about him?"

Buffy frowned deeply. "I'm not _worried _about him," she lamely tried. "I just…don't like the Initiative. That's all. They're evil."

Faith snorted at the blonde's weak reply. "Just admit it, B," she spat, shoving her hands deep into the front pockets of her black leather pants. "You've always turned a blind eye when it comes to the wrong-doings of the guys you love. First there was Angel, now there's Riley."

"But I _don't _have feelings for him anymore," the blonde protested, stopping in her tracks completely. "Sure I _cared _for him in the beginning, but after everything he's done – everything he's done to _you_," she emphasized, "we're completely through." Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head. "Besides," she continued, "I never really loved him to begin with."

Faith stopped walking as well and glared defiantly at the elder girl. "Sounds like you took a page from my book, Blondie," the brunette snarled, unable to hold back her distain for the Chosen One's strange relationship with the milquetoast Marine. "Fuckin' someone you don't even love? Pretty cold, B," she leered angrily. "That sounds more like my style than yours."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at the girl with whom she had become closer over the past few months. Even though they had shared meals and laughter together, and had even shared a bed multiple times, there were still too many burned bridges to have completely reconciled all the bitterness and misunderstandings from their tumultuous shared past.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Faith. So don't start something you're not prepared to finish," the blonde warned darkly.

The Boston girl grimaced and clenched her fists at her sides. "You just can't stand the idea of being alone though, can you?" The Boston girl's body began to shake slightly as years of frustration over her unreturned affection for the blonde girl began spilling out.

"You've always gotta tease and tempt people, even when you're not really interested."

"I do _not _lead people on!" the smaller slayer futilely protested.

"Naw," the Boston girl vented, "you just use 'em until you get bored or find some other warm _or cold _body to share your bed with."

The Californian unleashed a disgruntled cry before backhanding the unsuspecting Boston girl across her face.

Faith brought her hand up to her split lip. She looked down at her fingers, the tips of which were lightly stained with her own blood. "A bitch-slap?" she grinned sardonically. "Now _there's_ the girl I love."

"God, you make me _so _angry sometimes!" the blonde slayer screamed in frustration.

Without warning, Buffy grabbed the Boston girl by the front collar of her jean jacket. Faith closed her eyes and tensed her body, expecting to be tossed across the cemetery when she felt the strong hands grip her. But she never expected the crushing of hungry lips against her own thick, pouting mouth. Or the candy tongue that had pushed its way past her lips and beyond her perfect teeth.

The Boston girl moaned loudly when she felt Buffy's tongue lash aggressively against her own. But the small blonde immediately pulled back, startled by the sound and alarmed by her own actions. Buffy touched her fingertips to her bruising lips and her hazel-green eyes nervously darted around. Faith's own face was one of shock and awe.

"I-I'm sorry, Faith," Buffy blurted out anxiously, unable to pull her eyes up to the Boston girl's overcome features. "I don't know what came over me."

Without another word of apology or explanation, the blonde quickly spun on her heels and ran into the dark night. The Boston girl remained motionless for a moment, still pulling herself together after the unexpected kiss, before running after her.

"I want to show you boys something," Professor Walsh smiled.

Forrest Gates and Riley Finn were led down a sterile, white corridor within the Initiative. Neither of the soldiers had been in this part of the building before as it was set-aside for only the highest-ranking officers and the most talented military scientists. Maggie Walsh paused outside of a door marked 303. She slid her access card through the sophisticated reader and pressed her hand against a fingerprint recognition panel. The heavy white door opened with a click and a hiss as if they were entering a vacuum or air-sealed laboratory.

"As you both know," the psychology professor began, "for the past few months we've been studying demon DNA in order to not only better understand these hostile creatures, but to harness their paranormal powers for the United States military. This is one of the most exciting," she informed the two men, "and also the most controversial projects on which the government is currently working."

The small blonde woman led the Marines past a dizzying array of smaller cages. A different type of demon was squeezed into each cell. In comparison to the holding tanks found elsewhere in the underground facility, these tiny prisons made the others look like luxury hotel suites.

"As you can see," she stated, gesturing to the sturdy-looking cages, "we've moved the majority of the captured hostiles to this room for the final stage of testing. Once we've perfected the operations, then the procedure will be offered to more of our top men."

"Operation?" the dark-skinned Marine questioned. He looked at his brother soldier and raised an eyebrow.

"Ultimately," Walsh continued, "we want to provide you Marines with the best opportunity to fight against other hostiles and to create the strongest Army in the world. To do that, we'll be offering you two options. First," she explained, continuing to lead the two men through the long, winding room, "you can elect to continue ingesting the foreign demon compounds. We're not entirely sure of its effects yet, but it seems to at least be making you soldiers stronger and to heal your wounds faster."

"And the second option?" Riley questioned, obediently following his supervisor.

Dr. Walsh stopped when she reached a large wall-computer. "The second option," she stated with an odd smile on her aging face, "is something more…controversial."

The military scientist typed a few codes into the computer and a holographic image beamed down from the ceiling. An image of an anonymous soldier appeared before the room's three human occupants. The man was well-muscled and naked from the waist up.

"We've discovered that most Hostiles have amazing defensive and offensive weapons built right into their own bodies," Walsh observed. "The United States can certainly furnish its soldiers with their own impressive array of weapons, but the threat of military budget cuts and anti-gun fanatics have already threatened the superiority of our Army in the world."

"Let's call this soldier, Adam," the small woman continued, gesturing towards the image. She pressed a button on the computer monitor and the soldier was now outfitted with a green-tinted skin. "A simple skin-graft could provide this normally average Marine with nearly impenetrable demon armor."

"Or," she paused, pressing a few other buttons, "if we wanted something less conspicuous, our scientists could simply amputate a limb and replace it with an enhanced demon limb."

The man's right arm faded away to be replaced by a new flesh-toned appendage. The imaginary man flexed his new arm and a long, solid skewer thrust out of the base of his wrist.

"Holy shit!" Gates boomed in his deep voice.

"Impressive, yes?" the female scientist grinned. "And that's just one of the more _basic _procedures we're capable of."

Riley looked longingly at the holographic image of the skewer-wielding arm and back down to his own vulnerable arm. The doctors had informed him that without the aid of the daily demon "vitamins" it could have been nearly a year until his arm had completely healed. Moreover, he would have required multiple surgeries to assure that the bones grew back correctly as the Boston girl had shattered his right humerus in multiple places.

Riley's soldier friend gave him a mischievous grin and nudged him in the side. "Gives a whole new meaning to cosmetic surgery, huh, buddy?" he rasped.

"Why did you run off like that?"

The brunette slayer found the elder woman alone in the middle of an elementary school playground. Buffy sat by herself on a swing set, her narrow hips and backside able to fit in the child-sized swing seat. Although Faith was physically stronger than the small blonde, she had quickly discovered that the original Chosen One was significantly faster. Not only did that apply to hand-to-hand combat, but now also running away.

"I said I was sorry, Faith," the blonde mumbled defeatedly. Buffy didn't look up at the Boston girl as she careened back and forth slightly on the swing set. Her tennis shoes scuffled quietly through the wood chips that blanketed the playground. "I'm so screwed up," she sighed sadly. The girl looked up and Faith could see the wetness collecting in the elder woman's large hazel-green eyes. "Here we are trying to rebuild our friendship," she lamented, "and I go and do a stupid thing like that."

Faith took a perch on the adjacent swing. She kicked up her feet and began to slightly swing back and forth alongside her sister-Slayer. "I kinda wish you'd be stupid more often, B," the dark-hair girl admitted with a small smile.

Buffy blushed and turned her face away from the Boston girl's intense stare, dragging her feet on the ground to stop her movements. Faith stopped swinging as well, letting her thick boots fall heavily on the wood-chipped ground. The raven-haired beauty snatched Buffy's hand and pulled her body closer to her own enflamed form. The rusting chains on the swing-set creaked and groaned loudly as the two swings leaned towards each other.

"What are you -," Buffy started, trailing off her question when she was struck by the intensity of the Boston-born slayer's dark eyes.

The air felt heavy around the two slayers as Faith reached out a hesitant hand and brushed the pad of her thumb across the expanse of the blonde girl's full lower lip. Buffy sighed, almost inaudibly, and closed her eyes at the touch. Neither girl spoke a word, both experiencing an acute nagging suspicion that any mumbled syllable might ruin the moment.

Faith leaned forward, the chains of the swing-set still straining and creaking with every subtle movement. The dark-haired slayer lightly closed her eyes and held her breath as she slowly narrowed the distance between she and the blonde woman's mouth. This is what she had dreamt about doing ever since she first met the Chosen One, years ago in the back alley of the Bronze. The raven-haired beauty could only hear the heavy throbbing of her beating heart. The pounding echoed loudly inside her ears, nearly suffocating her other senses.

A shower of fireworks exploded behind the young slayer's closed eyelids when her lips finally brushed against Buffy's slightly parted mouth. Faith clenched her one hand, grasping tightly to the swing-set chain, and felt the rings bite into her palmy flesh. Her other hand snuck up to stroke the feather-soft side of the elder slayer's face. She pressed her lips more soundly against the Californian's and felt explosions ricocheting through her body when the elder woman leaned into the gentle kiss.

The rogue slayer swabbed the tip of her tongue across Buffy's bottom lip. She heard the smaller slayer sigh and the Boston girl's tensed leg twitched erratically when she felt Buffy's left hand boldly slide up her right thigh. Faith stroked her fingertips across Buffy's delicate cheekbones and gently sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, hesitantly nibbling on the lower lip. The blonde slayer quietly groaned, finally allowing herself to enjoy just a taste of what the dark-haired girl's talented mouth was capable of.

The Boston girl yelped loudly and threw her hands up towards her head. Her sudden movement caused her to fall backwards out of the swing. She landed solidly on her backside with a loud thump and her heavy boots became tangled in the suspended swing chains.

Buffy scrambled to her feet, struggling slightly to stand up from her awkward position on the swing-set. She giggled nervously and opened her mouth with the intension of teasing Faith about her lack of coordination. But before she could utter a single syllable, she saw the Boston girl's face contort in intense pain.

And then Faith began to scream.

The dark slayer winced in bed and brought one hand to the side of her head. "Why do I feel like someone hit me in the head with a sledgehammer?" Faith groaned and squinted her dark eyes. Pale sunshine shone brightly into Buffy's bedroom where the Boston girl found herself tucked beneath the blonde's heavy comforter.

"Good morning, sunshine," came a soft, feminine voice. "Or, I guess it would be 'Good Afternoon' now."

Faith struggled with the burdensome duvet cover as she turned on her side to locate the source of the melodic voice. The sunlight made it hard for her to make out the facial features of the other person in the room. The bright sunshine haloed the other form's silhouette, giving the room's other occupant an ethereal glow. But even without seeing the girl's face, the Boston-born slayer knew it was Buffy. Even through the hazy sluggishness she felt inside her brain, she could sense the elder slayer's presence tickling at the base of her spine.

"B?" the dark-haired girl questioned, her voice raspy with sleep. "What happened?"

The blonde slayer sighed quietly. "That's the $100,000 question," she murmured. "I had Willow and Tara do some witchy things while you were sleeping, and their best guess is that your chip is malfunctioning…just randomly going off."

"That must've been some kiss, huh?" the Boston girl winced, touching her head gingerly.

Buffy blushed. She seemed to be doing that a lot more frequently lately. "I got kinda worried that maybe you had a curse on top of that chip," the blonde slayer admitted with a small smile. Her hands fidgeted nervously on her lap. "I always seem to find smooching partners with pesky ancient curses."

Faith pulled herself up to a seated position in the soft bed. "Don't think I've killed any gypsy princesses lately, B," she managed to grin through the dull ache in her brain. "Only curse I've got seems to be _you."_

The blonde stuck out her bottom lip. "I've been called a lot of things in my day," she complained, "but never a _curse."_

Faith chuckled despite the residual pain throbbing in her head. "You're worse than the Bubonic Plague, Blondie," she lightly teased.

"Well, you must be feeling much better to be making fun of me already," Buffy noted with a small smile of her own.

Faith gave her sister-Slayer a full-dimpled grin. "What can I say, B?" she shrugged easily. "You're an easy target."

Neither girl was prepared to discuss what had occurred between them the previous night. Buffy knew she would eventually have to confront the Boston girl about that hesitant and gentle lip-lock that continued to replay itself in her mind. But until she was ready for that conversation, it was far easier to do this instead. A light knocking on the open bedroom door interrupted the easy and familiar banter the two slayers had fallen into. Buffy's mother walked into the room with Dawn hovering near her elbow.

"How are you girls doing up here?" Joyce asked with a soft, maternal smile. "Faith, honey, can I get you anything? Maybe some chicken noodle soup?"

"Mom," Buffy sighed with annoyance. "She doesn't have a cold," she pointed out. "She has a malfunctioning piece of metal in her head."

Joyce gave her elder daughter a warning look. "That may be, honey. But chicken soup cures everything," she reproached.

Faith looked at her slaying-partner in shock. "You told your mom?"

Buffy shrugged sheepishly. "I figured it wasn't fair keeping her in the dark about all of this."

Mrs. Summers defended her daughter's decision. "I can't pretend I understand exactly what it is that you two girls do or how you do it. Slaying, I mean," she stated, shaking her head slightly. "But it does make me feel less irrelevant to know what's really going on."

"So if you were to go on an airplane, Faith," Dawn chirped up suddenly. "Would your head beep at the security gate because of the metal in your head?"

"So how about that soup, Faith?" Joyce repeated her offer, ignoring her youngest daughter.

At the mere mention of food, Faith's stomach growled loudly. The girl clamped her hands over her gurgling gut to stifle the embarrassing noise. "Quiet you," she growled back at her stomach. Faith looked up and gave Buffy's mom a grateful smile. "Soup would be great, Mrs. S, thanks."

Joyce cast her eyes on her eldest daughter who seemed to be staring intently at the Boston girl. "Buffy?" she called, garnering Buffy's attention momentarily. "How about you, sweetie?" she asked. "You haven't eaten anything since dinner last night."

Buffy's eyes returned to the form of her sister-Slayer. "I'm okay, Mom," she declared, waving a hand and dismissing the offer. "I've got to run an errand anyway."

The blonde stood up abruptly from the window seat and stared once more at the vulnerable girl in her bed. "I'll, uhm, be back in about an hour," Buffy stated. She gave her mom a forced smile and nodded toward the dark slayer. "Can you make sure she doesn't get into trouble while I'm gone, Mom?"

Dawn plunked down at the foot of Buffy's bed. "I'll keep an eye on her," the teen girl offered with a bubbly grin. "Wanna watch some cartoons, Faith?" she asked, bouncing on the bed.

The Boston girl gave the newest Summers addition a toothy grin and ruffled the top of her brunette hair. "You read my mind, Kid."

"I'm so happy you called, Buffy," the Marine pushed away his unfinished cheeseburger and side of French fries. "To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was ever going to hear from you again, or if we'd end up being one of those awkward ex-couples who ignore each others' existence." Riley gave the girl a broad smile from across the restaurant booth table where they sat.

After leaving Faith in the care of her sister and mother, Buffy left her home on Revello Drive and called her ex-boyfriend to meet her at the 24-hour diner within walking distance from her house. Knowing that her friends' resources were limited when it came to investigating the underground military operation, Buffy had swallowed her pride and telephoned the eager Marine, hopeful to garner any additional information about the chip in Faith's head. Although she still wasn't sure if the Iowan was potential friend or foe, she decided to track him down. But after seeing the hopeful smile on the handsome man's face when she walked into the restaurant, she had immediately regretted her decision.

"Well, as tempting as that sounds, I thought this would be better for both of us," the blonde tried lightly. Buffy pushed a stubborn lock of golden hair behind her right ear and worried her bottom lip with her top teeth.

"You look good, Buffy. Really good," the sandy-haired man smiled warmly.

Buffy gave the Iowan a grim smile in return. "You look good, too," she stated quietly. "…considering."

Riley's boyishly handsome face hardened at the blonde woman's words. "I suppose _she _told you what happened down there," he spat bitterly.

Buffy nodded, absentmindedly. "She only said that she was able to hurt you, really. Didn't go into details or anything," she revealed. "I honestly thought you'd be more…black and blue."

The Marine self-consciously flexed the bones in his formerly broken arm. The demon compounds had sped up his recovery faster than anyone at the Initiative could have anticipated. "Yeah, well," he grunted. "A lot of things have changed since you last saw me," the Iowan stated cryptically.

Buffy frowned deeply. "I know. Riley," she started. "I don't know what they're trying to feed you down there, but you can't mess around with this demon stuff. The military can't really understand how dangerous that is."

"Why did you really call to meet up with me, Buffy?" Riley snapped, his eyes flashing. "Cause if it was just to lecture me, I've already got a mom back in Iowa."

Buffy scowled at her ex-boyfriend's curt demeanor. "Well, I guess there's no reason for me to care about what you're doing to your body if you already know how stupid it is," she retorted. The blonde shook her head sourly at her former boyfriend. "The reason I called you is because I need information about Faith's chip. We think it's malfunctioning."

"Uh huh. I knew this had to be about _her_," Riley complained.

"The chip. It…" Buffy hesitated momentarily, ignoring her ex-boyfriend's bitterness, "It went off….when she wasn't hurting anyone."

"What was she doing when it went off?" the Iowan asked. Although he didn't care much for the Boston girl's wellbeing, he was alarmed that the military's technology seemed to be malfunctioning. Anything less than perfection was unacceptable to the disciplined soldier.

Buffy could feel the blush creep up the back of her neck and crawl onto the tips of her ears when she remembered the hesitant, yet intimate embrace with her slaying partner. "She wasn't hurting anyone," she quietly muttered.

"I suppose you're contemplating having the chip removed, huh?" Riley questioned, a kind of quiet rage thick in his voice.

"She's not the Monster you think she is, Riley," the Californian insisted. "I can tell that she's changed. Besides," she snapped bitterly. "maybe _you _should have a chip in your brain to stop you from hurting more humans." Buffy felt her svelte form slightly shake in anger. She wanted to stand up and storm out of the restaurant, but she still needed information from the Marine.

"I'm a soldier," Riley grunted. "It's my job to protect the country."

"Yeah, well she's a _Slayer. _And you seem to think that demon-hunting is part of your job description now. Well it's not; it's mine."

Riley absentmindedly picked up a stray fry and chewed on the end before tossing the remaining half back down on the white ceramic plate in front of him. "You can't save her, Buffy," he boasted, puffing his chest out slightly. "Only the Initiative can. Our doctors are the only ones who can safely remove the chip."

Buffy opened her mouth to lambaste the cockiness of the corn-fed soldier, but he cut her off.

"Not even magic can help her, I assure you," he taunted. "One wrong move and the chip's non-tampering device will melt Faith's brain faster than if it was made out of Velveeta. But," he hesitated with a wicked grin, "there _is _something I can do to help her."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at her former lover across the diner table. "I don't like your tone," the Californian growled. "Why would you want to help Faith?" she demanded. "What's in it for you?"

The Marine pursed his lips together and drummed his fingertips against his mouth in quiet contemplation. Perhaps there _was _another way to get what he wanted.

"A government operation will give Faith more of a chance than any of Sunnydale's finest brain surgeons," Riley observed. "And I'll even ensure that she be immediately released to Mr. Giles after the surgery has been completed. No more tests. No more hunting her," the Marine promised with a smug grin. "But I want something in return."

Buffy snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. "I knew there had to be a catch."

Riley leaned forward in his seat towards the scowling blonde. "I want _you_, Buffy," he rasped. "I want us to be together the way we were before _she _came into town. I've changed too, Buffy," he insisted, grabbing onto the girl's hand across the table. "I know now that you're the One. All of this time apart has convinced me of that even more. And if I need to become more like the people in _your world _to be with you, then that's what I'll do."

The blonde narrowed her eyes and pulled her thin hand out of the soldier's meaty grasp. "What do you mean like the people in _my world?" _she quietly hissed.

Riley sat back, leaning his back against the plastic bench of the restaurant booth. "I'm stronger now, Buffy," he stated simply. "And the Initiative is offering me an amazing opportunity to become even stronger. You wouldn't have to hold back with me anymore. I could help you patrol without you ever having to worry about my safety. We could finally be Equals."

The blonde chewed on her bottom lip. She and Riley had been good together before she knew about the Initiative. He had been reliable, normal, and safe, but there was always something missing from their relationship because she knew that she was better than him. Being with Riley was settling. It wasn't that she needed her significant other to be a super hero or even slightly paranormal, but in her line of work, those without powers either got in the way or were seriously injured.

Sensing his ex-girlfriend's hesitation, the Marine divulged what little information he knew about the behavior modifier to help expedite the Chosen One's decision. "Faith will eventually die without the surgery, Buffy," he warned her. "We put that same modifier in other demon's heads and not one of them has lasted more than a few months."

Buffy's hazel-green eyes went wide and her pink lips formed a silent cry. She had believed that the chip was little more than a painful distraction or inconvenience. The slayer never imagined that the government-issued modifier could potentially _kill _the Boston girl.

"So what do you say, Buffy?" Riley smiled sweetly, leaning forward again. "You wanna be my girl again?"

The golden-haired woman bravely stifled the reactionary sob that pushed its way up her tightened throat as she thought about her sister-Slayer. Without the surgery, Faith would die. And if anyone other than an Initiative doctor performed the delicate operation, she could become a vegetable. Buffy suddenly felt like a prisoner, signing her own death sentence, or a royal princess giving herself away to the wicked ogre to save her kingdom.

The Chosen One closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Give me a day to think about it," she managed to choke out.

TBC


	16. Chapter 15

Buffy walked through the front door of the Revello Drive home, deep in thought. Her secret meeting with Riley hadn't turned out the way she had expected. At best, she had wanted to learn more about the chip in Faith's brain and why it might be malfunctioning. But now she had an ultimatum to consider.

Without an immediate surgery, Faith might die from complications with the behavior modifier. It was no longer a question of _if _the chip should be removed. The slayer no longer internally questioned if her darker colleague would refrain from hurting humans without the device. Now the issue was if Buffy was martyr enough to save her sister-Slayer.

The Californian wandered back to the kitchen area where she ran into – literally – the girl whose Fate had of late monopolized her thoughts.

"Damn, B!" the dark-haired girl complained, holding her forehead where their two heads had collided. "Being around you is seriously bad for my concussion count."

Buffy rubbed at her own forehead. "Good thing your skull is like concrete then," she mumbled grumpily.

Faith gave the elder girl a lopsided grin. "So anyway," she smiled, dismissing their run-in, "now that you're back, how about we go kill something?"

The blonde looked up sharply, her hazel-green eyes penetrating the taller woman. Faith laughed at the elder girl's reaction. "Geez, B. Take a chill pill. I just meant go on patrol," she clarified with a shake of her head. "Go kill something evil, yeah? I'm itchin' for a little action."

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows together. With Faith's chip on the fritz, the last thing she wanted to do was put her in a dangerous situation. "No," she stated simply. "No slaying tonight. We can give demons and vampires the night off."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she paused. "So…the Bronze then?"

"Do you really think that's best?" Buffy's mouth twisted into an uneasy grimace. "What about your chip?"

"Aw, c'mon, B. I'm going stir crazy here!" the young slayer whined emphatically. "Besides," she reasoned, "if the chip explodes inside my head, it's gonna do it no matter where I am – here at your mom's or dancing off some stress at the Bronze." The dark-haired girl gave her blonde counterpart a lopsided grin. "So what do ya say, B? Be my date tonight?"

The golden-haired slayer set the flatiron on the edge of the porcelain pedestal in the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror.

When the Boston girl had said the D-word, Buffy felt a strange flutter in the pit of her stomach. That flip-flopping had skipped its way up to her brain and immediately banished her resolve. Even now as she stood in front of the vanity mirror, flat-ironing her hair, she wasn't quite ready to admit to herself why she had said 'yes' to Faith.

Because there was no way she would admit that she wanted to go on a date with Faith.

The knock on the open bathroom door caused her to look away from her own reflection and instead stare at the blindingly beautiful face of the rogue slayer. The Boston girl was idly chewing on a Twizzler, drawing unnecessary attention to her mesmerizing mouth.

"You about ready to motorvate, B?" she asked with a dazzling smile. Faith stepped into the bathroom with the blonde and looked at her via the mirror. "Cause it's hard to improve on perfection, ya know."

Buffy felt her face go hot with embarrassment. "I'm not perfect," she mumbled, casting her eyes down to the pedestal sink.

Faith swiftly kissed the blonde's right temple and laughed lowly. "Wasn't talkin' about you, Twinkie," she winked into the mirror.

_Suggested listening: "Obsessed" – Mariah Carey_

"Well this is fun," Willow stated as if surprised by the outcome of the night. She gave her girlfriend's hand a slight squeeze under the table.

Tara nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm glad we decided to come out tonight."

Faith lightly jogged up to their table, her face somewhat damp and her hair a little wild from dancing all night. She grabbed Buffy's bottle of water from the bar top and took a long pull.

"Hey! My water!" the blonde weakly complained, swatting uselessly at her sister-Slayer's bare arm as she continued to drain the container of its contents.

Faith screwed the cap back onto the nearly empty bottle and set it back down on the table. "C'mon, B," she grinned, slightly out of breath. "You owe me a dance."

The blonde struggled slightly as the Boston girl tugged on her arm. "This isn't really my kind of music," she protested as Faith pulled her to her feet. She tossed the seated Wiccas a pleading look, but the two girlfriends only smiled mischievously at the complaining slayer.

"Aww, c'mon, Princess," the brunette woman chuckled. "Just cause it's not some boy band doesn't mean you can't shake it."

Buffy pouted, but kept her ground. "I do _not _like boy bands," she argued with a little stomp of her foot. "I mean, sure I went through a phase, and there were posters on walls and giant buttons on jean jackets and tragic hair and acid washed jeans, but who _didn't _like New Kids on the Block?"

Faith gave the small blonde a winning smile. "You're kinda cute when you babble, B. But that's still not gonna get ya outta dancing with me."

Buffy reluctantly allowed the younger woman to lead her out to the Bronze's tiny dance floor. "I mean it," she continued to protest as they weaved around a few couples swaying with the music. "I don't know how to dance to this."

The Boston girl spun suddenly, her face inches from Buffy's. "That's not what Xander tells me, cutie."

The Chosen One's mouth dropped open and she sputtered on her words, unable to form an appropriate comeback.

Faith gave the smaller girl a playful wink. "That's what I thought," she smirked, turning on her heels again.

When the dark-haired girl was sufficiently satisfied with their position on the dance floor, she turned to face the blonde slayer and immediately began swiveling her hips in time with the slower beat. With her knees slightly bent, her body writhed to the music.

The Californian stood awkwardly on the dance floor. Unsure of what to do, she slightly bobbed in place, her face growing red. Sensing the other woman's unease, Faith abruptly grabbed onto Buffy's thin hips and helped her find a smooth rhythm. "There ya go, B," she rasped huskily into her ear when the elder slayer began to move along with her guiding hands.

Trusting that the golden-haired slayer had found the groove, Faith reluctantly let go of the elder woman's slender hips. She closed her eyes and bobbed her head slightly, twitching and twisting her curvy hips from side to side.

"Help."

Faith slowly cracked one eye open to see her sister-Slayer standing still in front of her. Buffy frowned sheepishly. "I lost it," she mumbled.

The Boston girl smiled kindly and placed her hands firmly on the elder woman's hips again. She pulled their cores dangerously close, causing the blonde's heart to pound a little harder inside her chest.

"Shhh…Don't fight it, B," she instructed quietly as she again helped the blonde move in time with the slow, sensual beats. Their lower torsos moved as one. "Don't think," Faith breathed.

Her words felt hot on Buffy's neck. "Just feel."

"They're, uhm," Tara struggled to find the words as she watched the two slayers dance together. "They're glowing."

Willow gave her girlfriend a puzzled look. "Glowing?" she repeated and looked to see where her partner was staring.

"Their energies," the blonde Wicca explained. She shook her head slightly, still watching the Chosen Two. "Their auras are dancing with each other. It's like, the most amazing light show." She nodded toward the crowd. "I can see every couple's energies out there. But Buffy and Faith's essences…" she trailed off. "They're the only ones that are connected."

The redhead blinked a few times, straining her eyes toward the darkened dance floor. "Have you ever seen that before?" she asked, unable to see it herself. Her girlfriend had always been better at that Earth Mother stuff.

The curvy blonde blushed slightly. "Only when you and I are…"

Willow blinked again before she realized to what her girlfriend was referring. "Oh!" she chirped, her eyes going wide.

Buffy and Faith appeared by the Wicca's table, hand in hand. "We're gonna head home, if that's okay," Buffy informed her two friends.

The witches nodded in unison. "That's fine, Buff," Willow smiled. "I'm glad you guys invited us." She gave her girlfriend a shy smile as she played with the plastic straw in her drink. "I think we'll just spend the rest of the night dancing anyway."

Tara let out a small squeaking cough and clutched at her throat.

"You okay there, T?" Faith asked, raising an eyebrow at the shy blonde.

"F-Fine," the girl stuttered. She flashed the redheaded witch a playful glare. "My drink just went down the wrong tube is all," she explained.

Buffy looked between the blushing faces of her two Wicca friends. "You guys be safe," she said. "Don't get eaten by vampires or anything on the way home."

Tara flashed Buffy a wide smile. "Don't worry about us, Buffy," she stated innocently. "There'll be some eating tonight, but not by any vampires."

Willow choked on her drink and tipped over her plastic red cup, which was, thankfully, empty.

Buffy gave the two women a small wave of goodbye, her face still a picture of confusion as she allowed the dark slayer to pull her towards the exit.

When the two slayers pushed out the heavy metal doors of the local bar, Faith exploded with laughter. Her deep chuckle echoed into the dark evening sky.

"What's up with you?" Buffy asked with a curious look as the two began walking towards Revello Drive.

"Red and T are _so _gonna get it on tonight," Faith grinned with a wiggle of her ever-active eyebrows.

"What?" Buffy cried out, shocked by the Boston's words. "Oh my God. How can you even know something like that?"

"Oh, c'mon, B," Faith snickered. "Couldn't you _smell _it?"

"Smell? What would I sme-…" she trailed off and slapped the Boston girl hard on the arm. "You are _such _a pig."

The Boston girl doubled over in laughter again, holding her sides. "Don't be such a prude, Twinkie," she remarked. "Red and T deserve a little sweaty, gruntin' action just like the rest of us."

Buffy quickened her pace, her heels clicking on the cement sidewalk. "This conversation, is _so _over," she complained, staring straight ahead of her.

Faith sped up as well, her long strides matching the Californian's fast gate. "You don't think they don't get down like that?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

"Why are you still talking about this?" Buffy whined, glaring over at the younger woman.

"Just wanna ruffle your feathers a bit, B," the Boston girl admitted, shoving her hands deep into her back pockets. She skipped a little as she walked. "Kinda hopin' for a repeat performance from the last time I got ya mad."

Buffy stopped abruptly. "Faith…" she murmured, her cheeks feeling hot. "I…"

Faith held up a hand. "You don't have to say it, okay?" she snapped, a little surprised by the bitterness that had crept into her voice. "It was a mistake, right?"

"No," Buffy whispered. The word was almost inaudible, even with Faith's slayer hearing.

"What'd ya say, B?" Faith asked, needing to be sure she wasn't hearing things.

Buffy coughed quietly, clearing her throat. A giant frog had suddenly taken residency in her windpipe. "I said, no," she croaked. "It wasn't a mistake."

Faith looked at her sister-Slayer and blinked a few times. "Oh." The dark-haired girl ran her fingers through her hair and averted her eyes. "So, uhm, what does that mean?"

"I-I don't know," the blonde admitted, looking troubled.

"I thought I smelled something sweet," came a dark rumble. A poorly dressed vampire stalked out of a cluster of shrubs. His face was already in Game Mode and he noisily licked his lips as he stared at the two attractive slayers.

"Really?" the Californian sighed, rolling her eyes. She put her hands on her hips. "Can't you see we're in the middle of something?" she grumbled, clearly annoyed by the undead man's interruption.

The vampire hesitated momentarily. "Uh, I guess I didn't realize…" The creature shook his head apologetically before remembering that he was an evil creature of the night. "Ah, shouldn't you two be screaming or running by now?" he asked, mildly confused.

"Want me to take care of it, B?" the brunette asked smoothly, moving to pull the weapon from the lining of her denim jacket.

Buffy shook her head. "It's okay. I've got it." The golden-haired slayer clenched her tiny fist and punched the startled vampire square in the face. The ageless man staggered backwards a few steps and shook his head from side to side as if his brains had been rattled inside his cranium.

"H-how did you do that?" the creature asked, the astonishment apparent in his deep voice.

The two slayers exchanged a look. "Really?" Buffy asked, surprised as well. "He doesn't know who we are?"

Faith shrugged beneath her jean jacket. "Guess you'll just have to give him a history lesson, B."

Buffy jumped in the air and twisted her lower body until her foot connected once again with the vampire's head. The creature's head snapped to the side. "Into each generation a girl is born," the blonde started with a small smile.

"One girl in all the world," she continued. Buffy punched the vampire in the thoracic diaphragm, causing him to gasp and stumble backwards again. "A Chosen One. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness."

The blonde slayer stalked cockily toward the frazzled vampire and punched him again in the face, causing blood to spurt from his broken nose. Buffy calmly pulled her weapon out of her jacket and continued. "To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer." She paused and looked meaningfully at Faith. "_We _are the Slayer."

The Californian thrust the wooden weapon towards the bloodied vampire, shoving the stake deep into his chest. Brittle bones snapped inside the undead man's hollow chest, making room for the slayer's tool. When the weapon found its target – the vampire's unbeating heart – the creature exploded into a cloud of fine dust.

"Dang, B," Faith purred lasciviously as she watched the blonde woman return the wooden stake to its hiding place in her jacket. "That was quite the show. Kinda jealous now. You're the one gettin' all the action tonight."

"Why does everything you say sound like a sexual innuendo?" Buffy asked, taking a tentative step backwards. The Boston girl's dark eyes seemed to flash dangerously even in the twilight.

"Because it is."

When Buffy awoke the morning, her bed was empty. She twisted her body to sit up and saw Mr. Gordo propped where Faith had slept the previous night. Although her body had screamed at her to kiss the Boston girl as they lay side by side, the blonde girl could only wistfully stare at the ceiling, frozen by fear, before falling into a troubled sleep.

Sunlight streamed brightly through her thin curtains now, flooding her eyes. After a few moments to let her eyes adjust, the blonde dragged herself out of bed and padded down the stairs.

The sounds of squealing and husky laughter filtered from the kitchen. When Buffy turned the corner into the back room, she was greeted by the sight of Faith and Dawn throwing cereal at each other. The two had ransacked the Summers' cereal supply, both eating out of giant mixing bowls; they now used the kitchen island like a fortress with open boxes of sugary morning foods spread around the kitchen.

"Stop it!" Dawn squealed with delight. She held up her hands in front of her face to shield herself from the puffs of sugar flying through the air. "You're getting crunch berries in my hair!"

Faith tossed another handful of cereal at the teenager. "You shoulda thought about that before you poured Fruity Pebbles down my t-shirt, Squirt."

Buffy bit her bottom lip, stifling a giggle as she watched the two. And suddenly she knew the answer. Faith had to be saved. No matter the cost.

As Buffy stood in the threshold, undetected by Faith and her sister, she knew she needed to keep her decision from her friends. They wouldn't understand her motives. They wouldn't understand the immediacy of the thing. She could almost hear Willow's voice as she thought about her friends, in fact – the gentle insistence that they would find another way. That there had to be another solution.

Buffy crept out of the kitchen and slid upstairs once again to her room. She picked up the phone from its cradle on her bedroom desk and dialed the familiar number.

The Marine answered the call after the first full ring.

"Hello?" he answered.

"I've made my decision," the blonde girl stated without any pleasantries. Her voice sounded stronger and more confident than she felt. "Save Faith."

Across town, Riley remained quiet momentarily. "If I do this for you, Buffy," the Iowan reminded the girl in a low voice, "that means you'll agree to my terms?"

Buffy bit her bottom lip and clutched onto the receiver tightly. The next word would be the hardest of her life: "Yes."

Buffy hopped up from the couch and walked toward the windows in the living room for the fifth time in the past half an hour. Faith gave her sister-Slayer an odd look from her position on the comfortable furniture. "B," she called out. "You got ants in your pants or something?"

Buffy trailed her fingers through the heavy drapes and peered outside. "No, uh…" she stumbled. "I just thought I heard something."

Faith patted the seat cushion next to her. "Why don't ya pop a squat, B? I think one of your soaps is on next," she grinned playfully.

A brisk knock on the front door interrupted Faith's plea and she watched as the blonde wordlessly disappeared to the foyer. Unconcerned, she dug her hand into the popcorn bowl and began flipping channels.

Buffy opened the door abruptly and grimaced when she saw the nondescript man standing on the front porch. She looked past the soldier and saw another black SUV parked in the street in front of her house.

"Ms. Summers," the soldier nodded curtly.

"Who is it, B?" Faith called from the living room.

"She's not to be shackled. She's not to be harmed," Buffy growled between clenched teeth. She clutched at the wooden door and felt the fibers strain beneath her tight grasp. "If I even suspect the Initiative isn't holding up their end of the bargain," she continued threateningly under her breath, "then I end you all."

When the soldier strolled into the living room, side by side with the blonde slayer, Faith jumped up from the couch and instinctively clenched her fists at her sides, ready to fight or run. "What the _hell _is this, B?" she demanded. Her dark eyes flashed with venom and betrayal.

"Faith, please. It's not what you think," the elder slayer tried weakly, waving her hands in the air. "They're here to help."

"Fuck that," the Boston girl snarled. "You just can't make up your mind," she accused, pointing a vicious finger in the direction of the defeated-looking blonde. "Keep fuckin' flip-floppin' on me."

Buffy gave the younger slayer a pained expression. "If you trust me, Faith," she stated with emotion, "you'll go with them."

The Boston girl's body relaxed at the blonde's words and her hands hung loose at her sides. "Of course I trust you, B," she murmured, despondently. "More than any other person I've ever known."

Buffy swallowed hard, pushing back the stinging tears that tickled the corners of her eyes. She grabbed onto her sister-Slayer's hand. "They're going to make you better, Fai," she promised, looking deep into Faith's tortured eyes. "They're going to get the chip out of your head before it's too late."

Without further fan-fare, the dark slayer allowed herself to be ushered out the front door and into the back of another black SUV. She looked back at the Summers' house and the blonde woman standing just outside the front door.

This was all becoming a little too familiar.

The hospital gurney squeaked and groaned as the military employee pushed the Boston girl down the well-lit hallway. The uniformed woman paused momentarily to press a few security codes into a wall panel and the secured door hissed and clicked open.

"Why am I still awake?" the dark-haired slayer demanded, sitting up slightly on the hospital-issue bed and wrapping the revealing gown tighter around her upper torso.

"The anesthesiologist will be here shortly," the attendant murmured curtly as she pushed the bulky bed through the narrow doorway. "Don't worry. We won't cut your head open while you're still awake."

"How reassuring," the Boston woman mumbled before laying back down on the starchy pillowcase.

A portly man waddled into the room. "So this is the girl that's been causing all this fuss, eh?" He gave a short laugh and scratched at the back of his neck. "Doesn't seem like it's worth all the trouble, if you ask me."

The female attendant shook her head. "It's not our job to ask questions or make judgments, Dr. Galvin. All I know is that she's of great interest to Dr. Walsh."

"Maggie Walsh," the operating doctor remarked with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "That woman's sneaking up the ladder, isn't she?"

The nurse shrugged. "She's doing important work, apparently. I heard in the break room, though, that the only reason this operation is happening is because one of her pet soldiers agreed to a Stage 2 upgrade."

"Stage 2, eh?" Dr. Galvin repeated. "All for this girl?"

"I'm _still _awake," Faith complained loudly, staring up at the incandescent lights glowing above them.

"Oh yes," the brain surgeon laughed, as if suddenly remembering the patient was in the room. "I seem to have forgotten my manners in all of this excitement. I'm Dr. Galvin. I'll be cutting into your brain this afternoon."

"Some bedside manner," the brunette muttered anxiously, crossing her arms across her chest.

Although she knew the operation was needed, it still didn't make her any less nervous to know that very soon the military would once again be tinkering inside her cranium. She wanted the chip out of her brain as soon as safely possible, but it didn't help that all the dark slayer wanted was to see Buffy once more before going under the knife. No one at the Initiative had reassured her that the surgery would be a success; no one had told her she would ever wake up from surgery. All she had was Buffy's word.

Faith lifted her head slightly when she heard a squeaky door open. Another doctor in blue-green scrubs confidently strolled into the operating room. He held his mask over his face. "Let's get a move on," he muttered, his voice tainted with boredom. "I don't want to miss my tee time."

The doctor placed the plastic mouthpiece over the slayer's mouth. "Now I want you to start counting backwards from 100," he instructed with no warmth in his voice.

"99….

"98….

"97…

"96…

"95…

Faith opened her eyes to find the blonde slayer sitting in front of her, dressed in a simple printed sundress. She looked down and found herself similarly dressed. They appeared to be sitting on a picnic blanket in the middle of an abandoned, vast park.

"B?" she questioned, taking a moment to appreciate the green, lush surroundings. "Did I die in surgery?"

The Californian giggled quietly. "Why, Fai? You think you're in Heaven?"

The dark-haired girl snorted. "Maybe. Cause otherwise there's no way I'd be caught dead in a dress."

Buffy pulled an apple out of a wicker picnic basket that seemed to appear out of nowhere. "You want some?" she offered to the Boston girl.

Faith eyeballed the proffered piece of fruit. "Is this a trick?" she questioned, her face filled with curiosity and hesitation. "Like, the Garden of Eden or something?"

The elder slayer smirked at the baffled girl. "So now you're calling me a temptress?" she teased.

"Figured you'd know that by now, B," Faith admitted with an easy grin as she accepted the waxy-red apple. The Boston girl bit hard into the fruit and wiped at her face with the back of her hand as its juices spilled down her chin.

"Always such the lady," Buffy joked, rolling her eyeballs slightly.

Faith's face became serious. "Is this a Slayer dream, B?" she asked. "I mean, are you _really _here?"

"I don't know, Fai," Buffy stated, cocking her head to the side and staring intently at her sister-Slayer. "You're the one who brought me here. Does it feel real?"

Faith stroked her fingers lazily along Buffy's bare arm and smiled when she felt the blonde woman subtly shudder under her gentle touch. "Feels real enough to me," she rasped huskily, her voice immediately lowering an octave.

"F-Faith…I need to tell you…" Buffy struggled find the words as the dangerously beautiful slayer continued to brush her fingertips along her skin.

"B," Faith interrupted. "If this _really _is just a dream, I think we're doing far too much talkin'."

Buffy twisted her lips into a slight smirk. "Well, it's _your _dream, Fai."

Her boldness belying the nervousness she felt in the pit of her stomach, Faith reached for the elder slayer. Supporting the back of the blonde's head in the palm of her hand, the Boston girl gently laid the smaller woman backwards onto the picnic cloth. Buffy's golden locks fanned around her head as she rested on the thin blanket.

Faith stared down on the Californian's angelic face and found herself unconsciously shaking her head. Seeing the troubled look in her sister-Slayer's eyes, Buffy moved to sit up. "What's wrong?" she asked.

The raven-haired beauty gently placed a hand flat on the elder slayer's clavicle, subtly encouraging her to remain reclined. She brushed her fingertips along the blonde's jaw line and cheekbones. "It's nothing, B," she murmured, her lips hardly moving. "You're just so…so goddamn beautiful."

Faith leaned down, carefully and cautiously narrowing the distance between their faces. She licked her lips slowly when her mouth was only a breath away from the blonde. The Boston girl hesitantly brushed her thick lips against Buffy's slightly parted mouth. Buffy sighed softly into the dark-haired girl's tentative kiss, encouraging the younger woman to continue her attentions.

The brunette twisted her long fingers around the Californian's silky, fine locks as she pressed her mouth more solidly against her sister-Slayer. Buffy's arms reached up to wrap around the back of Faith's shoulders and neck, pulling her down into the kiss. The two slayers' mouths moved slowly and deliberately against each other. The golden-haired woman moaned quietly when the Boston girl slipped her tongue past her parted lips and perfect teeth and began to tenderly stroke against Buffy's tongue.

Faith chuckled deep in her throat when she felt the smaller woman wiggling beneath her stretched out body as if seeking out some kind of friction or release. She reluctantly pulled her face away from the blonde's eager mouth. "Shhh," she soothed, once again stroking the pads of her fingers across her soft cheeks. "There's no need to rush this, B."

Faith kissed Buffy's forehead and pulled the blonde girl so she could hold her tight in her arms. She nuzzled her nose into the Californian's golden hair and breathed in the scent of her sweet, fragrant shampoo. "As much as this rocks," she stated in a quiet voice, "I kinda can't wait to wake up."

Buffy rearranged herself in her sister-Slayer's warm embrace. "And why's that?" she asked, looking up at the taller girl from beneath her thick eyelashes.

The Boston girl gently squeezed the woman. "Cause I can't wait to hold you for real."

The blonde girl awoke slowly, her eyelashes fluttering. Her bedroom at her mother's house was dark and only the pale moonlight outside illuminated the space. Buffy sat up and looked to the right side of her bed to find it empty. The Californian wistfully ran her hand along the cool sheet and slightly dented pillow as if hoping to feel residual body heat.

The Chosen One lay on her side and stared at the empty space where her sister-Slayer had once slept beside her. She reached out and touched the extra pillow again. The tears rolled down her slightly tanned cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away as they spilled onto her own pillow.

Buffy exhaled a loud, shaky breath and sobbed into the darkness.

"What have I done?"

TBC


	17. Chapter 16

Riley flipped through the large binder, pausing to carefully scan over the contents of each page. Once the Iowan soldier had agreed to the Stage Two upgrade in return for Faith's freedom, Maggie Walsh had assembled a booklet of his options. It was like a catalogue filled with demon parts and their abilities.

The Marine looked up when he heard the small woman enter her office. "Good morning, Riley," the blonde scientist smiled. She maneuvered around the seated man and took a seat opposite him behind her desk. "I didn't expect to see you here so early."

"Didn't want you to think I'd changed my mind," the disciplined soldier noted, half-closing the binder.

Dr. Walsh scooted her office chair closer to her desk and leaned toward the broad-shouldered man. "You have no idea how pleased I was to hear that you'd agreed to the Upgrade," she said with an excited grin.

Riley cast his eyes back down on the page and said nothing as he continued to scan over the binder's paranormal contents.

"I don't really understand what the Lehane girl has to do with all of this," Dr. Walsh admitted with a small frown, "but nonetheless, I'm excited for the enhancements."

"So when is this all gonna happen?" the sandy-haired man asked.

"Well," the scientist began, "since you're one of the first to volunteer for the procedure, I want you to pick whichever abilities you'd like. The possibilities are endless, really. Just tell me what you'd like to be able to do," she explained with a cheerful smile, "and we'll round up the appropriate demon hostiles. It shouldn't take more than a week if we don't already have them in our facilities."

The casual way in which the military scientist carried on about the procedure made Riley feel like he was picking out a suit instead of demon accessories.

"So?" the small blonde woman asked again. "What did you have in mind?"

Riley tossed the folder onto the government scientist's desk. He leaned back in his chair and looked at his mentor.

"Just make me strong."

Recommended Listening – "You're Not Sorry" by Taylor Swift

The brunette woke up groggily to muffled voices outside. She sat up gingerly in bed and slowly opened her eyes, taking purchase of her surroundings. Faith silently considered how many strange bedrooms she had awoken in over the past few months, feeling a little like her old self. But not in quite the same carnal way.

Faith sighed loudly, pushing a deep breath out her lungs. Reflexively, a hand went into her hair – a nervous habit since childhood of raking her fingers through her chaotic tresses. Her fingers paused momentarily when she felt the freshly shaved square. She scowled, annoyed that the Initiative had chosen a different location from which to enter her cranium rather than re-opening the original brain flap. The right side of her head would soon start to look like a frightening patchwork quilt if she continued in this fashion.

The room took a while to focus, but she soon recognized the odd mixture of 1970s vinyl records and Demonology books Giles stored in the spare bedroom at his flat. Faith hefted herself out of bed, not surprised to find herself dressed in a tank top and boi shorts. She grinned to herself, imagining that Buffy had chosen this particular nighttime ensemble for her. At least she _hoped _it was Buffy who had dressed her. The Boston girl stuck her tongue out, mildly gagging at the thought of the English Watcher in that way.

Hearing a conversation in the next room, Faith padded toward the room's exit, but paused when the muffled voices became clearer. She leaned into the heavy wooden door that separated her from the rest of the house and tried to make out what the voices were saying.

"Has she woken up yet?" a familiar female voice asked.

"Not as of yet, but I'll let you know as soon as she does," Giles replied in his clipped English accent. "She's been sleeping soundly since the Initiative transported her here."

Faith reached for the door handle, ready to toss the door open and greet the Watcher and Slayer until she heard a third, unexpected, voice.

"Thanks for agreeing to look after her, Mr. Giles," came a voice that Faith thought she would never hear again. "Circumstances have changed, and she won't be able to stay at Buffy's mom's anymore."

The brunette furrowed her eyebrows together. Why would _he _be here? And what _circumstances _had changed? She quietly opened the bedroom door wide enough so she could peek through.

The Boston slayer peered through the narrow crack between the door jam and door to see Giles, Buffy…and Riley. The slayer and watcher stood across from each other while the Marine lingered near the Chosen One's side.

"The government is prepared to help pay for her living expenses while she recovers," the Iowan soldier informed the English Watcher. "But once she's back to full strength, the Initiative wants nothing to do with her."

Faith regarded the Californian for a moment and couldn't help but be reminded of the scene in the _Little Mermaid _when Eric tells his staff that he and Vanessaplan to be married. Buffy's eyes had that same waxed-over, glossy sheen to them as Eric's had when he was under Ursula's spell.

Giles removed his glasses from his face and wiped at the lenses with the bottom of his sweater vest. "No, no," he shook his head. "That won't be necessary. We'll manage just fine without the military's help."

When the Iowan placed a possessive hand on Buffy's hip, the blonde slayer bristled near the Marine's side. Faith growled deep in her throat, feeling a flash of protective rage flush her veins. She pushed the bedroom door open noisily, resisting the primal urge to attack the soldier for touching Buffy in such a familiar way.

Buffy's eyes snapped back into focus when she heard the squeaking door swing open. "Faith!" she called brightly, her face instantly lighting up when she saw the Boston girl in the doorway. "You're up!" she observed. "How are you feeling?" Buffy moved to greet her sister-Slayer, but hesitated when she looked up into Riley's disapproving frown.

The dark-haired girl shrugged. "You know me, B. Five by five." She nodded in the direction of the Marine and looked cross. "What's _he _doin' here?" she grunted.

Buffy looked uneasily between the soldier and the dark-haired slayer. The two suitors stared hard at each other. "It-it's complicated," the blonde weakly muttered. Her head dropped and her shoulders slightly sagged forward as if defeated.

Riley clamped her right hand tightly and possessively in his own beefy fist. "C'mon, Buffy. It's time to go." The Marine began to walk toward the front door to leave and slightly tugged at his girlfriend to do the same.

"Wait," Faith called out. "You-you're leaving? But I just woke up?"

The Californian looked apologetically at the hurt slayer. "I'm sorry, Faith," she whispered. "But I can't stay."

Buffy gave her sister-Slayer one last longing look before being dragged out of Giles' flat.

Faith rushed to the front window and watched the reunited couple climb into Riley's truck. The Marine opened the passenger side door for the blonde girl and she shuffled into her seat. Buffy strapped herself into the vehicle and stared blankly ahead as the broad-shouldered soldier revved up the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

The Boston girl closed the heavy drapes and turned to glare at Giles. "What the hell is going on?" Faith demanded of the English man. "Why am I _here _instead of at Buffy's house, and why the fuck is that Clean Marine back in her life?"

Giles set his teacup down on the counter. "I'm not sure," he calmly stated, his age-worn face looking thoughtful. "All I know is that Buffy requested that I look after you while you recover from surgery."

The dark-haired girl scowled deeply, her eyes narrowing and forehead wrinkling. Her mind scrambled to form coherent thoughts, but all she could see were images of Riley's hand at Buffy's waist. She wanted to snap his hand off at the wrist for touching the blonde slayer.

"Perhaps Buffy just wants you someplace safe and quiet while you get better," the Watcher suggested, interrupting the dark girl's violent thoughts. "She surely can't afford to be missing any more classes this semester," he pointed out. "And with Buffy's mother at work and Dawn and Buffy at school, you'd be alone during the day."

Faith looked over at Giles. "Maybe," she stated flatly, not wanting to let herself feel even a shadow of hope. The Boston girl raked her fingers through her sleep-tussled hair once again and sighed.

The Watcher's optimistic words rang hollow in her ears. Although Giles wanted her to hope for the best and not jump to darker conclusions, her instincts and personal history told her that Buffy had pushed her off on someone else – that she was tired of watching over and being responsible for the younger slayer. And despite everything that had happened between them recently, Buffy had walked away from their connection because of a boy. Again.

The defeated Boston girl stalked back in the direction of Giles' guest room.

"Faith? Can I get you anything?" the paternal man asked.

Faith hesitated in her exit momentarily, but didn't turn to face the former librarian. "The only thing I want is gone," she sighed. The dark girl brushed the back of her hand across her cheek, wiping away the unexpected tears that had sprung from her large eyes.

The brunette coughed, clearing her throat of the burdensome frog that had lodged itself in her windpipe. She righted her shoulders and put on a brave face. She could do this; she could put on a happy face. After all, it's what she did best, wasn't it?

Faith looked over her shoulder to look at Giles' worried face. "Don't worry about me, G-man," she lied with a wavering smile. "I'll be just fine."

The dark slayer retreated from Giles' view, sliding back into the guest room. The brunette woman closed the heavy door behind her and released the shaky breath she had been holding in. Faith walked across the room and looked out the window once more, noting that the pavement was slightly damp from the beginning rain. When it rained, it poured.

Faith left the window-side and returned to the oversized bed with its brass frame. She crawled between the comfortable flannel sheets and pulled the heavy quilt over her head. The Boston-born slayer closed her eyes and willed sleep to find her soon.

After all, maybe this was just a dream. Maybe this was all just a nightmare.

TBC


	18. Chapter 17

The brunette slayer pushed open the front door to the Magic Shop. The small bell perched above the entrance jangled loudly as she made her way into the store and she grimaced slightly. Xander and Tara sat together at a table, while Anya worked the main cash register. Everyone looked up from their respective work when they're heard the noise.

"Hey, Faith," Xander chirped from his seat at the circular wooden table. He closed his comic book, making sure to note where he had stopped. "Where've you been hiding?" he asked jovially. "Haven't seen you in a while."

The Boston woman nervously touched at the tiny shaved square on the right side of her head. "Didn't Buffy or Giles tell you?" she asked with a confused frown.

Willow's head popped over the second floor railing. "Tell us what?" she asked.

Faith stood awkwardly, feeling the heat of the Scoobie's eyes suddenly on her form. She touched her fingertips to her scalp again as if making sure it hadn't been all a dream. "The Initiative removed the chip in my brain," she mumbled.

Anya was the first to react. She huffed behind the front counter. "Great. Now we're all dead."

"An!" Xander exclaimed. He looked apologetically at the rogue slayer. "She's still working on the art of tact," he explained with a small smile.

Willow quickly descended the ladder. "You were at the Initiative again?" she asked, her voice and face showing her amazement. "And they _volunteered _to take out your chip and …just let you walk out the front door?"

Faith coughed uncomfortably and scuffed her shoes against the linoleum flooring. "I, uh, didn't really ask _why_ any of it happened," the Boston girl admitted with a frown. "They showed up at Buffy's house a few mornings ago, and she told me to go with them. So I did."

The redhead frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. "Why wouldn't Buffy had told this to any of us?" she wondered aloud. "I mean, we've seen her every day?"

"Why wouldn't Buffy have told you what?"

The inhabitants of the Magic Shop quickly looked toward the back of the store where a sweaty slayer was leaving the training room. Buffy had a water bottle in one hand and a towel in another.

"Buffy?" Willow looked at her friend, confusion on her face. "Why didn't you tell us about the Initiative removing Faith's chip?"

The blonde slayer tensed slightly. She knew her friends would eventually find out, but she hadn't wanted them to find out like this. Buffy thought she would have had more time before the Boston girl had healed enough to leave Giles' apartment. She should have known the dark slayer would stubbornly heal faster than anyone expected, however. At least her deal with Riley was still a secret.

Rather than turning this into an argument, the Chosen One merely shrugged. "There was nothing to tell," she stated flatly.

The Wicca crossed her arms across her chest. "It seems like a pretty big deal to me," she insisted. "Besides, we've all been invested in Faith's safety, you know. I mean, we did help get her out of the Initiative that one time."

Buffy shook her head and sighed. "Listen, you guys. I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier; but an opportunity presented itself, and I had to make an executive decision." She glanced hesitantly at the younger slayer. "I really did have Faith's best interest in mind."

The red-haired witch lost her aggressive stance. "Well, I guess everything is okay now…. I mean, Faith is back, and she's awake and walking around…and she doesn't have any extra demon parts." Willow paused and glanced at the Boston girl. "Wait, you don't have any extra demon parts, do you?"

Despite the situation, the brunette slayer couldn't help herself. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at the Wicca. "Only in my pants, Red. You wanna check it out?"

"Wonderful," Anya called from behind the cash register. "More lesbian humor. If I don't get out of here soon, Xander won't have _anyone _to be orgasm buddies with." The Magic Shop employee narrowed her eyes at the witch and the dark-haired slayer. "Keep your lesbian cooties to yourselves."

The Californian looked at the clock above the cash register. Riley wasn't due to pick her up from the store for another half an hour. "Faith? You think you're up for a little sparring?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes!" Anya chirped enthusiastically. "Give your lesbian germs to Buffy instead!"

The brunette slayer hesitated. She was still upset with the elder slayer for going back to the Iowan Marine. But who was she to turn down the opportunity to get hot and sweaty with the great Buffy Summers?

Besides, with everything that had happened the past few days, she felt the need to smack her around just a bit. Maybe it would knock some sense back into the Californian.

Faith curled a finger at the blonde slayer. "Been waitin' awhile for you and I to be on equal footing again, Blondie. It's been too long."

Buffy took a tentative step forward, her body loose, but ready if the Boston girl decided to attack. "Better enjoy it while you can, F," the elder slayer countered. "Cause I plan to be on top again soon." The Californian looked suddenly uncomfortable as she realized what she had said. "Just forget I said that."

Faith bent at the waist and laughed loudly. Only Buffy could make her laugh this hard. "You really make it too easy, B," she guffawed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

The Californian felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. "Only because your head is always in the gutter," she spouted.

The taller slayer's face grew serious and she wet her lips. "Can you blame me though, Cupcake?" Her voice was silken and low, surprisingly smooth despite being a smoker. Faith allowed her dark eyes to roam freely over her sparring partner's lithe form. "Lookin' at you puts all sorts of dirty thoughts in my head."

"Are we gonna spar?" Buffy shakily retorted. "Or are you gonna jibber-jabber all day?"

Faith pursed her lips. "I could think of something else I'd rather be doing with my mouth."

Buffy swung her foot out, nearly connecting her tennis shoe to the Boston girl's head. The dark slayer bobbed out of the way just as a white sneaker sailed by her face, just missing. Faith smirked. "So no more foreplay then? You just wanna get right to it?"

The blonde hopped back and forth on her toes, staying light on her feet. The younger slayer had always been physically stronger, but she knew she was faster. "If you don't try to hit me soon," she jibed, "I'm gonna fall asleep."

The Boston girl's mouth twisted into a grin. She launched a clenched fist toward the elder woman's gut and felt an explosion of joy when her punch connected with Buffy's abdomen. The blonde slayer staggered backwards a few steps, surprised.

"I said you could _try _to hit me," Buffy gasped, doubled over. "Never gave you permission to actually land a punch."

"I think I'm gonna get used to not having a chip in my head real fast," the former convict beamed.

Still bent over, the blonde rushed towards the cocky Bostonian. Her shoulder connected with the rogue slayer's breastplate like a linebacker rushing a quarterback. Faith's arms flailed wildly and she toppled backwards, landing hard on the wrestling mats. A loud burst of air escaped from her lungs when her ass soundly hit the blue padded flooring.

"Mother fucker," the brunette complained. She arched her back slightly, lifting her backside off the ground. She rubbed at her tender tailbone.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the curvaceous slayer's pelvic thrust slightly into the air. With her back arched, her ample breasts stuck out prominently from her flat abdomen. The blonde slayer could just make out the hint of a sculpted swimmer's 'V' dipping down into Faith's pants from where her top had slightly ridden up.

Taking advantage of the blonde's distracted state, Faith swept a long leg out, connecting with the side of Buffy's left ankle. The Californian fell over, her body landing in a heap on top of the brunette. Limbs tangled together as the two women grappled for position, but finally the elder slayer came out on top. Buffy's body lay flat on top of the younger woman. Their breasts pressed against each other, their faces only inches apart.

"Guess I was wrong about you, Blondie," the younger slayer breathed. "I always figured you for the submissive-bottom type."

Buffy opened her mouth to snap back at the Boston girl, but was taken aback when the brunette's lips were suddenly crashing into hers. The elder slayer's hazel eyes went wide and her lips screwed tightly together. Faith captured the blonde's wrists in her hands and rolled their bodies over, never breaking their lip-lock, until she was on top of the shorter girl. She nibbled on the Californian's bottom lip, feeling her sister-Slayer's mouth begin to relax and submit to the oral embrace.

Taking advantage of the Chosen One's slackening mouth, Faith slipped her tongue between Buffy's lips. The blonde instinctively groaned, feeling the talented tongue of the younger woman stroking against her own tongue. The two continued to kiss deeply. Faith refused to release her hold on Buffy's wrists, and held her arms and hands above her head. Buffy whimpered into her dark partner's mouth and subtly rolled her hips. When she felt the lithe woman beneath her move, something inside of Faith's brain exploded.

The Boston girl had vainly tried to control her urges around the blonde ever since she and Buffy had been rebuilding their friendship. She hadn't wanted her inability to keep sexual innuendos to herself to jeopardize the fragile relationship. But after seeing Buffy with Riley again after all they had been through together – sharing the same bed, that amazing kiss in the playground – she couldn't contain herself any longer. She was a Slayer, after all.

Faith thrust her lower torso into Buffy. She could feel the elder slayer's body go rigid as if Buffy had suddenly realized she had allowed this to go too far. The Boston girl pulled her mouth away from Buffy's parted leaps and glared at the golden-haired slayer.

"You can't tell me you don't feel this," the rogue woman challenged as she ground her pelvic bone into Buffy's cotton-covered pussy. "You can't tell me this doesn't feel right." Faith growled and breathed heavily into the smaller woman's ear. "I can feel your pussy warm against me, B," she taunted. "I know your little panties are wet just for me."

"No one can get you the way I do," she continued with a leer. "No one could know what a Slayer's body is capable of except for you and me." Years of pent-up frustration rolled off of the dangerous slayer in waves. Faith groaned when she felt the elder slayer's body moving beneath her own. "Fuck, B. I want you so bad. I've always wanted you," she growled. "I wanna suck on your pussy until your eyes roll backwards."

Buffy whimpered, but no words came to her mouth. It was as if her brain had suddenly been disconnected from her tongue. Although it seemed to be working just fine when she was kissing Faith.

"Or is that why you went back to your Cardboard Cutie?" Faith rasped, continuing to grind her lower torso into the elder slayer. "Does he know how to scratch that itch just right?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," the Californian panted finally. "This has nothing to do with sex."

Faith abruptly rolled off the blonde and crouched with her knees bent. She looked disgruntled and raked her fingers through her loose hair. "Then what gives?" she demanded. "After all this, why go back to him?"

Buffy tried to regain her composure, but the Boston girl's aggressive and familiar touch had rattled her. She had never felt her body react in that way to anyone. "It's complicated," she stated lamely. "I-I'm not sure I can tell you yet."

The Boston girl looked uncharacteristically startled and stood up from her crouched position. "Fuck. He didn't knock you up, did he?" The panic in her voice was unmistakable.

Now it was Buffy's turn to laugh. "Good Lord, no. We haven't…I mean…it's been a while since…" she blustered. "No," she finally answered. "There's no way I'm pregnant."

The dark-haired girl gave the other slayer a lopsided grin and breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. "That's good to hear," she murmured. She took a step toward the blonde and boldly placed her hands on the Californian's mid-drift. Buffy's skin felt hot against her fluttering fingers. "Cause I'd hate for anything to mess up this rockin' body, especially if it was Riley's spawn."

Faith toyed with the bottom hem of Buffy's t-shirt, not willing to step away from the beautiful girl just yet.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," came a bitter male voice.

"Riley!" Buffy called out, jumping away from the taller woman. "We were sparring," she exclaimed.

The soldier raised a suspicious eyebrow and folded his arms across his broad chest. "You ready to go?" he grunted.

Buffy looked quickly at her sister-Slayer, unable to miss the sadness that had quickly crept into the younger woman's expressive eyes. "Yeah," the blonde muttered. "I'm ready."

The Californian grabbed her sweat towel and water bottle from the ground and walked toward the back door of the training room. With one last lingering glance at the younger slayer, Buffy left.

"Riley," Buffy complained loudly. She swatted her hand at the soldier's wandering hands. "I said _stop_."

The Iowan leaned back in the drivers seat and ran a hand through his sandy hair in frustration. He breathed out deeply and narrowed his eyes. "But you agreed that if I helped Faith –,"

"I said I would be your _girlfriend,_" Buffy clarified."That doesn't mean I agreed to have sex with you."

Riley's eyes went wide. "I never _asked _for sex," he protested, his voice raising an octave. "What's so wrong about wanting to kiss my girl before she goes home?"

Buffy tossed an angry hand toward the front windshield in the direction of her Revello Drive home. "Making out in your car in front of my mom's house isn't exactly the dream."

Riley buckled his seat belt and turned the key in the ignition, firing up the engine. "Fine," he grunted. His hands curled around the steering wheel of his truck and his knuckles turned white. "I'll call you later."

The blonde bit her bottom lip and stared at the Marine. She could tell the man was having a hard time controlling his anger. His jaw was clenched and the muscles in his face twitched erratically. She felt guilty for having let it go this far. But how could she have sat idly while Faith rotted away with a chip in her head? Buffy could no longer pretend that Riley had been an innocent in the events that had transpired the past few weeks. And how could she kiss _him_ when her thoughts continued to flutter to the feeling of the Boston girl's mouth moving expertly over her own lips?

The Californian unsnapped her own seatbelt. "Bye, Riley," she mumbled before pulling herself out of the elevated vehicle.

The blonde shut the passenger side door and slowly walked up the stairs to the front porch. Buffy entered her mother's house without looking back.

A quiet, calm voice broke the silence that had befallen the Magic Shop: "We have to take down the Initiative."

Willow, Xander, and Anya all looked up from their respective busy-work: "What?"

Faith set her jaw and placed her palms flat on the wooden table at which she had been quietly sitting and observing the three friends. "It's evil," she announced. "And that's what you guys do, right? Destroy evil things?"

"But what can _we _do?" Willow asked. "I mean, breaking into the Initiative is one thing; but totally destroying it?" The Wicca shook her head. "That seems a little overambitious, Faith."

"But you're the Super Friends," Faith stated emphatically. She ran her fingers through her loose hair. "You do this kind of stuff all the time."

Xander and Willow shared a wordless look. "Yeah," the dark-haired man admitted, "but usually not without Buffy."

"Listen," the dark slayer snapped, jumping to her feet like an animated general. "Buffy's a lost cause. She's cozied back up with that meathead, Riley," she spit bitterly. "She abandoned us all."

"Faith," Xander started uneasily. "I don't think she's _abandoned _us."

"Yeah, well," the Boston woman looked cross. "Speak for yourself."

None of the Scoobies uttered a word.

"Listen, you guys," the brunette continued. "I'm a Slayer. I can _do this_." She paused and wet her lips. "So are you ready to follow?"

TBC


	19. Chapter 18

_Suggested Listening: "Run This Town" – Jay-Z ft. Rihanna & Kanye West_

"Remind me again why we invited the Peroxide Avenger along?" Xander grumbled as the group made their way through the labyrinth of underground tunnels.

Faith pushed a prehistoric-looking cobweb out of the way. "Because he knows these caves, Xand." She grimaced when the sticky web got caught on the ends of her fingers. "Ick. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I didn't exactly picture spending my Saturday evening gettin' lost down here."

"Well, I didn't picture spending my Saturday evening taking down a secret government agency," Anya loudly complained. She stumbled on a root, but caught herself before she ran into Xander's back. "It's Shark Week on National Geographic and I'm missing all the maiming and killing."

"No one actually invited you, Anya," Willow muttered, weaving along the dirt path. "You invited yourself."

Anya turned and gave Willow an evil eye. "Only because I don't want any of you lesbians to suddenly decide you like boys again and gang up on my poor Xander," she insisted.

The dark-haired man's eyes glazed over as he contemplated that image. He was rewarded with a sharp slap to the back of his head. "Hey!" he protested, rubbing at his skull. He turned and frowned at his girlfriend. "You're the one who put those thoughts in my head."

Faith chuckled as she tried to keep up with their vampire compass. It had actually been Willow's idea to bribe Spike into leading them into the secret entrance to the Initiative. The redheaded witch asserted that it would be far easier than magically sneaking in through the fraternity house entrance.

"I don't know where you've been gettin' your information, Anya," the brunette slayer breezed. "But I sure as hell am not a lesbian." She glanced quickly at Willow and Tara who were at the back of the group. "No offense, you two."

The former vengeance demon snorted. "Right, because all straight girls get wet when they look at Buffy Summers."

The Boston girl paused and raised an eyebrow at the Magic Shop employee. "Don't tell me that little blonde does nothing to your panties."

Anya opened her mouth, but immediately snapped her jaw shut, having no readily witty or scathing reply.

Spike sighed miserably as he continued to lead the unorthodox group deeper underground. "It never fails to amaze me that you're the Cracker Jack team that thwarts the end of the Earth time and again," he lamented. "Evil must be slipping if you all keep winning."

"Perfect popcorn in T-minus four minutes," Buffy announced proudly. The sound of the microwave turning on resounded in the background.

"Remind me again why Buffy's making the popcorn?" Dawn mumbled. She sat down next to her mother on the overstuffed couch in the living room. She picked up the DVD remote and got the disc ready. "She always burns it, and it smells up the house for like a week," she complained.

"Oh, let her do this," Joyce gently coaxed. She grabbed an afghan from the arm of the couch and spread it over herself and her youngest daughter. "What's the worst thing that could happen?"

Dawn blinked a few times. "We all die in a fiery explosion?"

"Well," Joyce smiled conspiratorially. "I've got the fire extinguisher ready just in case."

"I can _hear _you," Buffy yelled from the kitchen.

"T-minus four minutes until the first set of explosives goes off," Xander informed the group. He wiped his hands on the front of his black sweatpants. He had tried to convince the group that he should be in camou-gear, but when Tara pointed out he might get mistaken for an Initiative soldier, the dark-haired boy had readily agreed to the less masculine disguise.

"That's my signal to leave then," the bleach-blonde vampire noted as he turned in the other direction.

Faith stopped him with a strong clenched hand on his shoulder. "Not so fast, Dead Boy," she growled. "I wanna make sure you've actually brought us to the Initiative and not the Doublemeat Palace."

Spike shrugged out of the slayer's tight grip. "I don't know why you and your blonde missus keep comin' for my help," he complained sourly. "Cause unless there's a bed involved," he leered, "I'd like to steer clear of the likes of you two. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"As a pansy, slayer-lovin' vampire?" Xander interjected.

"Can we go over the plan one more time?" Willow asked nervously, interrupting the group's distracting banter. "My tummy's feeling rumbly." She flashed her girlfriend a quick smile and squeezed Tara's hand.

Xander looked uneasily at his long-time friend. "We gotta make this quick," he reminded them. "After that first charge goes off, it's gonna be total chaos inside."

Faith nodded grimly and set her jaw. "Willow," she started, "you and Tara are responsible for keeping everyone alive. Even though I wouldn't mind killing all those fucks down here, I know none of you are keen on that idea."

Everyone involved nodded. Everyone but Spike, that is.

"I just need you two to round up the humans inside like cattle or something," the brunette slayer continued. "I don't really care if the demons get blown up while we're down there. They can fend for themselves."

"So y-you want us to use magic in there?" Tara asked for clarification.

The Boston girl nodded. "Nothing too major. Just some fireworks or something to get the people away from the real explosives." Faith frowned. "I know the real evil isn't the building; it's the people inside. But if we can damage the infrastructure enough, it'll at least force 'em to pause whatever master plan they're workin' on."

"And what about me?" Anya interrupted, her voice suddenly animated. Apparently Shark Week had been forgotten. "What do I do?"

Faith looked at the former vengeance demon. "You have the most important role of all, Anya," she stated solemnly. "Stay behind with Spike, and don't get in the way."

"What? You're leaving me behind with the _vampire_?" Anya complained loudly.

The vampire looked equally startled. "You're leaving me behind with _her_?" Spike protested.

"Listen girl," Faith started, "I'm sure back in the day you were a wicked bad-ass demon, but now you're just an awkward human."

"Why does Xander get to help then?" the Magic Shop employee interjected. "He's as awkward as they come!"

The brown-haired boy looked disgruntled. "And again I say, 'Hey!'" Xander complained.

"If you can rig a bomb like your sweetie here," Faith pointed out, "then feel free to stick around." She paused to wet her thick lips. "Otherwise, take a backseat."

Spike snorted and crossed his arms across his chest. "Without me," he huffed, "you super ponces wouldn't be knockin' on Uncle Sam's backdoor. Why do _I_ get stuck behind babysitting?"

"Because with all the chaos and confusion that's about to go down," Faith rumbled menacingly, "I don't want you forgettin' yourself and takin' a nip from some unsuspecting scientist."

"How do you know he's not just going to drain _me_ as soon as you all leave?" the former vengeance demon pointed out.

The blonde vampire curled his lip. "I've never been _that _hungry, Pet."

"I'll have you know that I happen to be very delicious," Anya proclaimed.

Faith raised her voice. "Enough!" she boomed. _How the hell does Buffy deal with all these nit-wits?_ "This ain't a democracy," she declared. "I'm the Slayer and you _will _fall in line. Xander," the brunette snapped, flashing her eyes at the man, "how much longer until the Big Bang?"

The dark-haired boy looked down at his digital watch. "About thirty seconds." He audibly gulped.

The Boston slayer took a deep breath. "Alright. You all have your assignments. It's time to move."

Buffy plopped down between her mother and sister with a bowl of slightly burnt popcorn. Dawn immediately fished her hand into the bucket, spilling kernels into the blonde slayer's lap. The elder Summers sister snorted. "Eager much?"

Dawn made a face at her sister and jammed a handful of popcorn into her open mouth. "I'm just thankful we're all still alive," she munched. "You and a microwave equals disaster."

Buffy turned to look at her mom, ignoring the brunette teenager. "So, action film tonight?"

A loud blast echoed through the cavernous tunnels. The dirt around them shook and sifted, but the caves didn't collapse on the group of Super Friends.

"That's our signal," Faith noted. She gave one last grim smile to the group before leading them through a set of heavy metallic doors.

The four-some split up when they reached the belly of the Initiative. Faith was to escort Xander to another location so the handyman could set up the next round of explosives. Tara and Willow took off in an opposite direction. They were to distract the staff with magic and usher them into a bunker area where they would be safe from the detonation sites.

Willow had hacked into the secret facility's mainframe and together the group had mapped out the key structural points to implode. When they finished with the underground facility, it would be little more than a sinkhole in the center of the UC-Sunnydale campus.

Xander's skills had surprised them all. When the first set of explosions successfully detonated, chaos ran through the underground facility. Alarms sounded off throughout the military compound. Demons rattled their cages, soldiers grabbed weapons and armor, while scientists scampered away to safer locations.

Faith and Xander hurried undetected to the next detonation point. The boy frowned when they came to an unmarked entrance. "Uh, Faith," he started. He rapped his knuckles against a heavy metal door. "This room isn't supposed to be here."

"What do you mean?" the raven-haired woman asked. Her dark eyes continued to shift around the area, looking out for human obstacles. "We all looked at the blueprints."

"I know," Xander nodded. "But there shouldn't be a room here," he repeated. "It's just supposed to be a giant pillar."

"Fuck," the Boston girl raged. "Can you work around it?"

Xander shook his head. "Not if you want the job done correctly."

Faith chewed on her lower lip as she looked at the sophisticated keypad that kept the room locked. "Can you blow open the door?"

"It would take too much time," Xander explained. "This is a highly choreographed mission."

"I'm running outta patience, Xand," the rogue slayer warned.

The man held up a gloved hand to calm the Boston girl. "Let me just try something," he murmured. Xander closed his eyes and his fingers tapped a rapid succession of numbers on the security pad. He opened his eyes when he heard the clicking of the door unlocking.

The slayer stared at the man with awe. "How the fuck did you do that?"

Xander opened the unlocked door and shrugged. "I have no idea."

The California slayer groaned and threw popcorn at the television screen. "Gawd. Why are these movies _so fake_? That kind of stuff would _never _happen in real life."

Dawn sniffed at her sister and folded her arms across her chest. "Fine then," she scoffed, "since you're such an _expert _on action films, next time I'll let _you _go to the video store and pick out the movie."

Joyce chuckled and popped a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth. Even though her two daughters continually bantered, it was nice to spend a quiet evening together like this. "Just watch the movie, you two," she coaxed. "It's called suspension of disbelief_._"

"I said no interruptions!" a shrill female voice cried when they opened the door.

Faith's chocolate eyes narrowed when she recognized the small scientist. "Sorry, Doc," the dark slayer crooned. "Never was good at following directions."

Xander quickly took in their surroundings as he entered the secret laboratory behind the Boston slayer. Medical equipment filled the small space. Three gurneys were located in the center of the room, but he couldn't quite make out what was on top of the three carts. Jars filled with foreign body parts, floating in formaldehyde, sat on a shelving unit against the far wall where he needed to set up the second round of explosives.

"_You_," Maggie Walsh hissed. The woman stood near a metal desk on the left side of the room. Her eyes flashed with anger as she glared at the two intruders. "I should have had you killed when we removed that chip from you brain. No one would have mourned your death," she scowled. "You and that Summers girl have been nothing more than a giant distraction from the very beginning."

"I'm taking this place down," Faith snarled. She clenched her fists tightly at her side, ready to tear into the female leader. "One brick at a time if need be."

The blonde scientist's hand disappeared into a drawer and reappeared with a black berretta. She aimed the gun wildly at the slayer. "I will _not _allow you to interfere with my life's work," she ranted. Xander took a step backwards, but the Boston girl didn't flinch.

"You and your solders have done nothing but interfere with _my _life's work," Faith seethed. "Leave the demons stuff to me."

The scientist smiled viscously. The hammer echoed loudly in the operation room. "I'm ending this now."

"Faith," Xander called out nervously as he eyeballed the gun.

"Got it, Xand." The Boston girl kicked out a long, powerful leg. Her heavy boot connected with the short scientist's hand, dislodging the weapon from her grasp. The black gun clattered noisily on the tiled floor as it skittered out of the small woman's reach.

"No!" Dr. Walsh called out angrily as she watched the gun fly across the room.

Lowering her shoulder like a football player, the military scientist barreled toward the door. Her quick movements took the dark slayer by surprise, and Maggie Walsh rushed past Faith and towards Xander. Only he stood between the doctor and her exit. A short leg flew out and a white tennis shoe connected between the man's thighs. Xander's eyes bulged out and he instinctively bent at the waist before crumbling to the floor.

Faith stood still as the scientist escaped. Her body twitched with action, but she remained in her place. Revenge told her to follow the woman, but Duty told her to stay behind and make sure Xander was okay to set up the next round of bombs.

The slayer crossed the room toward the three hospital tables. Three men, unconscious and naked from the wait up, lay on the surgical gurneys. Faith's eyes widened when she recognized one of the Marines' comatose faces.

Riley.

Xander wheezed on the floor momentarily, recovering from the blow, before gingerly pulling himself back up. He was going to be bruised, for sure. The man stumbled over to the Boston slayer and his eyes widened as well when he saw who was on the gurney. "Jebus," he mumbled under his breath.

"Faith," the brown-haired boy called out, hoping to garner the dark slayer's attention. Her eyes seemed to be boring holes into Riley's face. "Faith."

The Boston girl's eyes fluttered momentarily before she looked over at Xander again. "What?"

"I can set up the rest of the explosives on my own," the dark-haired man stated as he began pulling explosives from his canvas bag. "Don't worry about me. Just get those three soldiers to a safe location."

Faith narrowed her eyes as she swiveled back to stare at the three unconscious Marines. "Fuck," the slayer grumbled, running her fingers through her loose hair.

The girl turned her head again when she felt a hand at her elbow. She found herself staring into Xander's dark eyes. "Don't do it for them, Faith," he stated gently. "Do it for Buffy."

"Buffy!"

Willow burst through the front door of the Revello Drive home. She turned her head from side to side, looking for her blonde friend.

Recognizing the voice, Buffy pulled herself off of the couch, wiggling out from between her mom and sister. "Willow?" she called out.

Her red-haired friend rushed into the living room, her face flushed and a wide grin spread across her pale face. "Willow?" Buffy said her friend's name again. "What's wrong?"

The young Wicca beamed at her long-time friend. "Absolutely nothing. Everything is _awesome. _I just feel so…so juiced!"

Buffy gave her friend an amused grin and looked around her to see Xander and Faith walk in the open front door as well. "Was there a sale at the Apple store I wasn't aware of?" the blonde joked.

Willow let loose an uncharacteristic giggle and jumped up and down. Buffy raised her eyebrow at the other two friends "No really…did Willow find the leftover Halloween candy?"

Faith shoved her hands deep into the front of her leather pants and looked down guiltily at her boots. Xander ran a hand through his dark hair and averted his eyes as well.

"Guys?" Buffy raised her voice an octave as she watched Willow skip back to the kitchen and out of sight. She walked into the foyer to talk to her two friends. "What am I missing?"

"We were just, uh, doing stuff," Xander lamely tried. He looked at Faith for backup. Now that the deed was done, neither was quite sure how to tell Buffy.

"Drugs?" Buffy asked, lowering her voice so her mom and Dawn wouldn't overhear.

Faith snickered and then quickly looked away.

The corners of Xander's mouth turned up. "No, Buff. Not drugs. Although once I tell you what we did, you might think we're on drugs."

Buffy's hands went to her hips. "What the hell have you been up to?" She looked at her sister-Slayer, sure she would get the story from her. "Faith?"

The dark-haired slayer cleared her throat. She looked anxiously into the living room. Both Joyce and Dawn's faces were illuminated by the television screen. Neither of them seemed concerned by Buffy's unannounced visitors. "We, uh, well you see the thing is…" she bumbled.

Willow came rushing back from the kitchen, a glass of chocolate milk in one hand. "We destroyed the Initiative!" she cheered. She flew into the living room and plopped down between Joyce and Dawn. "What are we watching?"

Faith ran a hand through her loose locks uncomfortably. Her eyes shifted around the front foyer, unsure of where to look. She knew she couldn't look at Buffy, however.

Buffy pointed to the dining room. "Dining room. Now," she commanded sternly. Both Xander and Faith, eyes apologetic, dutifully trudged into the adjacent room.

"Sit," the blonde commanded from behind them. Her tone told the two there would be no negotiating. "Explain."

Both Xander and Faith took their time sitting down at the dining room table. The chair legs screeched noisily on the wooden floor as they dragged the furniture around before finally sitting down.

Buffy sat down at the head of the table and calmly placed her hands flat on the top of the dining room table. Her lips were pressed tight together and she stared between the two accomplices, waiting for their story. Changing her mind, she folded her arms across her chest instead. She had nearly forgotten she was in her flannel pajamas and wasn't wearing a bra.

"I'm waiting…" Buffy mumbled. Her socked foot tapped impatiently against the wood floor.

Xander cleared his throat and looked at Faith once more. The Boston girl grimaced, but nodded at the brown-haired boy. Finally, Xander turned his eyes towards the blonde slayer. "We went down there…to the Initiative," he began. "You know I've got all that military training trapped in my head from that one Halloween." He tapped at his head to emphasize his words. "So I set up bombs that would cause the building to fall in on itself. No one got hurt though!" he declared, waving his hands. "Tara and Willow made sure of that. They used magic to lure everyone to a safety bunker or to get them to the buildings' exits. It was a total team effort," he beamed. "You would have been so proud of us…I mean…" Xander stammered, "if you'd been there."

The man looked back at the younger slayer for support. The Boston girl merely shrugged and cast her eyes down at the table.

"Buffy," the man prodded desperately. "Say something?"

The boy and the slayer looked expectantly at the blonde girl. Buffy remained quiet for a few painful seconds. Finally she spoke: "I need a moment, okay?" The California slayer pushed her chair away from the table and stood up.

Faith and Xander looked at each other after the blonde disappeared into the kitchen. "Well," the optimistic man stated, "at least she hasn't decked us, yet."

Buffy stared out the back kitchen window into the backyard. Her mind raced with a million questions, yet she could hardly muster up enough energy to feel any kind of emotion. Unless 'numb' was an emotion.

Her friends had blown up the Initiative? The gigantic military-thorn in her side was finally removed? They had done it all without her? And what did that mean for Riley?

The phone in the kitchen started to ring, but instead of moving to answer it, the blonde only stared at the wall phone. After four rings, the answering machine picked up for her.

"Buffy?" came a familiar masculine voice over the speaker. "Buffy? Pick up if you're there…" It was Riley. Apparently her friends hadn't killed the Iowan in their destruction of the Initiative. Or maybe he hadn't even been in the building when it happened.

The Marine sighed heavily on the other line. "I didn't want to have to say this on your answer machine," he hesitated, "but I'm being…reassigned. The government is dropping their Sunnydale project and sending me to South America. Damn it, Buffy,"  
>he cursed angrily, "please pick up if you're there."<p>

Buffy continued to stare at the answer machine, not moving from her spot by the sink. The Initiative was being _dropped_? More like it had imploded.

"I'm leaving at midnight tonight," the sandy-haired soldier continued. "A helicopter is picking up my unit from the South Ridge playground. I know we've gone through a rough patch lately, but I still love you." He paused and cleared his throat as if becoming emotional. "I love you a lot, Buffy. And…and if you love me, too, I want you to meet me at the playground before midnight. If you're not there…I'm leaving with the rest of my unit. Call me when you get this…otherwise, I really hope I'll see you later tonight." The man paused. "I love you."

Buffy shook herself out of her daze and walked mechanically over to the answering machine. She watched her hand go toward the phone. And she pressed 'Delete.'

TBC


	20. Chapter 19

"Buffy?" Joyce called out from the living room. "Did I hear the phone?"

The elder slayer's body tensed momentarily when she heard her mother's question as she walked out of the kitchen. Xander and Faith's heads snapped up to stare anxiously at the small blonde.

"Yeah, Mom," Buffy stated with faux-cheerfulness. "I let the machine answer it, but whoever it was didn't leave a message," she lied.

Buffy hovered between the living and dining room, not sure where to sit down. Her two friends in the dining room continued to look uneasy as Buffy had still yet to react to Xander's story. She could wait to discuss this with her friends in the morning when her mother wasn't around, or she could confront it now. The blonde woman worried her bottom lip. She hated verbal confrontations. She was much better with a weapon in her hand.

Joyce patted the two sleeping girls next to her on the couch. Both Willow and Dawn had fallen asleep. "I think it's time for bed," the Summers mother murmured.

The redhead's eyes fluttered open. "Was it all just a dream?" She hastily wiped at her mouth, worried she might have been drooling.

"Was what a dream, Willow?" Joyce asked.

Buffy stood in the foyer of the house and made wild hand gestures at the young Wicca. Her mother certainly didn't need to know what had happened that night.

"Oh, uh," Willow blinked as she stared at her friend's manic pantomime. "N-Nothing, Mrs. Summers."

Xander coughed. "C'mon, Wills." He rose from the dining room table and jerked his head towards the front door. "I'll take you back to the dorms before you pass out on the carpet." The dark-haired boy walked toward the foyer with Faith by his side.

Joyce stood up from the couch and looked at her eldest daughter. "Buffy," she asked, stretching her arms above her head, "are you going back with them or are you staying here tonight?"

"I think I'll just stay here, if that's okay, Mom," Buffy responded.

Her mother gave her a warm smile. "Of course it's okay, sweetie. As long as you help me drag Dawn upstairs, that is."

Buffy made a face when she saw her teenaged sister, lightly snoring on the couch.

"Faith, dear," Joyce stated kindly. "Why don't you spend the night tonight, too? I really hate thinking of you back at that motel by yourself."

Faith's eyebrows furrowed together. "Actually, Mrs. S., I've been crashing at Giles' place the past week."

Joyce gave the Boston girl a funny look. "You've been staying with Mr. Giles? I didn't know that." She pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "Well, I guess that's better than a motel, at least," she mused aloud. "But you're still more than welcome to stay the night here."

"No, I uh, wouldn't want to inconvenience ya'll like that," the brunette woman stated.

"Oh stop it," Joyce smiled warmly. "You know very well you're always welcome here. Besides, if you stay tonight," she continued, "in the morning I'll make you one of my famous breakfasts."

Faith scuffed her boots on the wooden floor. "Uh, thanks, Mrs. S. I-I guess I'll stay the night. I just gotta call Giles and let him know where I am."

Joyce smiled at Buffy's two best friends. "Xander and Willow, you two are more than welcome to come over for breakfast in the morning, too."

Xander gave the house full of women a curt wave. "Thanks, Mrs. Summers. If I can drag Willow away from campus, we'll do that. Goodnight everyone." He mock saluted Faith. "Nice work tonight, General Lehane."

The brunette slayer gave the boy a wide grin. "You too, soldier."

"Buffy?" Joyce called out from the living room. "Help me with your sister and then bring Faith some blankets and a pillow."

The small blonde grudgingly entered the living room and hoisted her younger sister over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. The brunette teen let loose a loud snore, but didn't wake up. Buffy teetered slightly as she ascended the stairs to the second floor. Even with Slayer strength, her sister made for an awkward and cumbersome burden. "How is it that Dawn's taller than me?" Buffy mumbled bitterly.

Faith plopped heavily down on the couch while the first floor finally emptied. Xander and Willow headed back to UC-Sunnydale and the Summers women disappeared upstairs. She flipped on the television, but finding nothing of immediate interest, turned the set off again. The dark girl looked up when she heard footsteps on the carpeted staircase.

Buffy descended the stairs, her hands full of blankets and a pillow. The Boston slayer looked critically at the blonde as she made her way over to the living room.

"Why does your mom think I'm still at that shit-hole motel?" the brunette demanded. "I thought she was part of the reason I vacated your house to stay with Giles?"

Buffy looked wildly uncomfortable. She dropped the blankets and pillow on the couch next to the dark-haired girl. "Er…"

Faith shook her head hard. "Spill it, Buffy," she snapped. "I'm tired of secrets."

The elder slayer snorted. "Just like how you kept it from me that you were planning to take down the Initiative on your own?"

The dark girl's eyes flashed. "Don't start gettin' Holier Than Thou, Blondie," she growled. "It had to be done, and it's not like you were gonna get around to doing it."

"You put my friends in harm's way!" the blonde hissed quietly, not wanting to wake up her mother.

Faith felt the rage slowly bubbling and building inside her. "_You_ put them in danger every day that you're friends with them," she taunted. "Why do you think every other Slayer in the History of Slayers has been a loner?"

The Chosen One gnashed her teeth together. "Being a loner has certainly worked out for _you_, hasn't it?"

"Hey, I've got no complaints." The Boston girl felt herself instinctively slipping into her mask of nonchalance. It was far easier to pretend to not care than to admit to herself and to Buffy that she felt wildly betrayed.

"Buffy?" Joyce's voice floated down the stairs. "Are you two still up?"

The blonde's eyes flashed momentarily with panic. "Yeah, Mom," she answered loudly, turning her gaze toward the staircase. "Just making sure Faith has enough blankets. I'll be up in a bit."

Buffy spun her head back to continue to accost the Boston girl. Faith obviously had different ideas of how she wanted to spend the evening, however. The elder girl watched helplessly as the brunette slayer, rather than making up her bed on the couch, stood up and made her way towards the front door.

"Night, B," the dark-haired woman scowled. "Thank your mom for her hospitality, but Giles is waitin' on me."

The blonde lifted a hand to halt the younger woman's retreat. "Fai, wait," she quietly pled.

Faith spun around to face the elder slayer, halting her retreat. "What do you want now?" she snapped bitterly. Buffy left the living room and wordlessly padded toward the younger slayer.

The dark-haired girl tensed when she felt Buffy's small hands move to her hipbones. The brunette's eyes went wide when she saw the shorter woman wet her lips. "Buffy…" she whispered, "what are you…"

"Shhh…" the Californian commanded, as she closed the distance between their faces. "You'll wake up my Mom."

"So do you really think that's the last we'll hear from the Initiative?" Willow asked her best friend as they drove along the nearly deserted streets of Sunnydale.

Xander tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the song on the radio. "I hate to jinx us, but it almost seemed _too _easy, didn't it?"

The redhead turned her gaze away from the passenger-side window and toward the brown-haired boy. "That's what I'm thinking, too," she reluctantly revealed.

Xander sighed. "Well, I guess we could always go check it out in the morning or something. You know, go see if anything's wiggling around down there or looking to rebuild."

Willow bit her bottom lip. "Okay," she nodded, "but let's not go without Buffy this time."

"Why?" Xander asked, training his gaze on the road stretched out in front of him. "Faith did an awesome job down there."

The Wicca stared at her friend. "You're not getting another crush on her, are you? Cause in high school you were all kinds of desperate and obvious."

The young man laughed. "C'mon, Will. Give me more credit than that. Besides, even if I was single and interested in Faith, I don't think she'd exactly be interested in me."

The redhead patted her best friend on the shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short, Xand."

"Oh, it has nothing to do with my self-esteem," Xander insisted. "I just don't think I have the right, uh, parts."

Willow narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Xander chuckled to himself as he turned down the drive toward campus. "Let's just say I think there's a better chance that Faith would have a crush on _you _than on _me._"

The redheaded coed blinked a few times before her eyes got wide. "Oh!"

Buffy rose slightly on her tiptoes and tentatively brushed her lips against the younger slayer's mouth. The blonde worried that her sister-Slayer might reject her and still run away to Giles' flat. Buffy wasn't kissing her to make her stay, however. Although she wasn't above using manipulation to get her way. She was kissing Faith because she _wanted _to kiss her.

"B," Faith sighed, shaking her head sadly. "What about Riley? I-I can't handle more rejection. Just…let me leave if you're plannin' on running back to him."

The blonde smiled shyly at the taller woman. She interlaced her fingers with the younger slayer, and led her towards the staircase. "Riley who?"

"Oh! So _that's_ why Anya's been ranting about lesbian cooties lately. How come you guys picked up on this, and I didn't?" the witch pouted. "_I'm _the lesbian after all. Shouldn't I be able to just, like, sense that kinda stuff?"

Xander shrugged as he parked his car in front of Willow and Buffy's residence hall. "Maybe you're just too into your girlfriend to notice any other girls?" he suggested.

Willow nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps," she consented wistfully. "Tara _is _pretty distracting," she murmured.

Xander leaned back in the driver's seat. "She must be," he remarked, "because I don't know how else you haven't noticed Faith's massive crush on Buffy."

"On _Buffy_?" Willow exclaimed in disbelief. "Really?"

"Wow, Wills," Xander chuckled, "Tara must _really _be distracting if you didn't notice _that _giant neon sign."

The Wicca blushed a deep shade of red. "How do you think Buffy would react if she knew?" the redhead wondered aloud.

Faith felt her back press tightly against the backside of Buffy's bedroom door. No sooner had she closed the wooden door behind her, the smaller slayer had pushed her back against the entryway. Buffy's hands flew up to the lapel of the dark-haired girl's jacket and crushed her open mouth against Faith's bee-stung lips. The Boston girl's hands traveled south to cup the elder slayer's finely sculpted backside. Buffy moaned into her sister-Slayer's mouth and her fingers moved to the front button of Faith's black leather pants.

"Woah, B," the brunette panted, pushing the Californian's hands away from her zipper. "S-Slow down, okay?"

Buffy took a step backward and her lower lip quivered. "Am I doing it wrong?" she asked with a light pout to her voice.

The Boston girl's lips twitched and grew into a wide, dimpled smile. "No, you're doing _everything _right, B," she observed. "I-I just wanna kinda take it slow, if that's okay."

Buffy's eyebrows rose up to her hairline. "Slow?"

Faith dipped her tongue into the cleft of her bottom lip. "Yeah," she rasped quietly. "I wanna show you how good it can be when you take your time," she purred. Her dark eyes slowly trailed over Buffy's slight form. "We're not two teenagers fumbling in the backseat of your parent's car, after all."

Buffy's face looked thoughtful, but eventually she nodded her consent. "Okay," she breathed. "Show me."

Willow sighed. "Poor Faith," she murmured. "I know what it's like to pine over someone who'll never like you in that way."

Her friend gave her a cheeky grin. "You're talking about me and not Buffy, right?"

"Xander!" the redhead exclaimed, slapping him playfully on the arm. "Stop it. I never had a crush on Buffy."

The boy wiggled his eyebrows at the coed. "Really? _Never _ever? C'mon, Will," he coaxed playfully. "If you can't tell _me_ about your girly fantasies, who can you tell?"

The witch sighed. "I guess the best we can hope for is that Faith finds someone new to have a relationship with. Kinda like how I found Oz when I couldn't have you," she remarked. "And how I found Tara after Oz left."

Xander nodded thoughtfully. "Right," he agreed, "because I can't image a world where Buffy Summers would like another girl."

Willow nodded her head as well. "So very true."

"I mean," the boy corrected himself, "it's not like I _haven't_ imagined it…but I usually reserve those fantasies for nights when Anya's not over."

Suggested Listening: "The Only Exception" - Paramore

The blonde stared at the dark woman next to her in bed. Both women lay naked, side-by-side under the Californian's soft comforter. Faith's chocolate eyes radiated warmth as she stared back at the elder slayer's angelic face. "Are you nervous?" she asked quietly.

Buffy grabbed one of the Boston woman's hands and brought it to her lips. "A little," she admitted, pressing her lips against the backside of the taller woman's hand. "I mean…I've never…"

Faith nodded silently. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not exactly an expert either."

The elder slayer's hazel eyes widened slightly in the dark. "But you _have _done thisbefore, right?" she asked.

"Mostly I've just dreamed about doing it with you," the rogue slayer admitted.

"Oh, good!" the small blonde rushed in relief. "Because I was so worried that I'd do something wrong and totally turn you off, or not know how to do something and you'd laugh at me, or I'd do it and it wouldn't be good and you'd –,"

Faith silenced the anxious slayer's ramblings by pressing her lips solidly against her slaying partner's rapidly moving mouth. The Boston girl's hand ran up the side of Buffy's smooth skin and slid through her silken hair. The Californian tensed slightly before her body relaxed, and she gave in to the gentle pressure the younger slayer exerted on her lips.

Buffy's hands snaked under the thick down comforter and found their way to Faith's naked midriff. Her fingers glided along the warm, smooth skin there, marveling at the tautness of the taller woman's abdomen. The raven-haired beauty jumped slightly, feeling the blonde's chilly fingers come in contact with her naked flesh.

Faith placed a hand on Buffy's top shoulder and gently pushed her back onto her back. The Californian yielded to the younger woman's wordless directions. Faith carefully crawled on top of the naked slayer, working hard to stifle the groan that came to her lips upon feeling Buffy's bare breasts brush against her own.

"Just relax, Buffy," the dark-haired girl breathed, feeling the woman beneath her tense. "I promise to go slow," she murmured, stroking her fingers along the side of the blonde's face. "And we can stop at any time, okay?"

The Californian stared up at the younger slayer beneath heavy eyelashes. The love and warmth she saw in Faith's slightly squinting eyes took her slightly aback. "Okay," she whispered.

Faith leaned down to once again capture the small blonde's mouth with her own. She shifted her weight, careful to not squish the girl beneath her. The brunette slightly parted the elder slayer's naked thighs and nestled a knee between Buffy's legs. The warmth she discovered between the Chosen One's thighs made the Boston girl inwardly groan.

"_Slow, slow, slow,"_ she chanted to herself in a silent mantra. Every cell in her body screamed at her to take what she wanted. To take what she felt rightly belonged to her. To take what had been denied for too long. She wanted to bury herself inside of the California slayer.

Buffy could feel every one of Faith's muscles twitching and straining as if her body was being assailed by short electrical pulses. "Are-are you okay?" the blonde asked as the Boston girl moved her talented mouth from her lips to her neck.

"Uh huh," Faith murmured into Buffy's lightly perfumed skin. The Boston girl nipped at Buffy's pulse point, and the smaller woman groaned and subtly thrust her hips upward into the woman above her. The brunette's brain screamed at her when she felt Buffy's naked sex bump into her. "_Oh God, I'm dying." _

The raven-haired slayer captured Buffy's hands, tangling her fingers with her own, and pulling her arms above their heads. Her mouth continued to travel further south and she was rewarded with small mewls of appreciation from the elder girl. Faith nibbled along the smaller slayer's defined clavicle as though devouring the most delicious meal. She skipped past her pert breasts, releasing her hold on Buffy's hands so her mouth could lavish attention on the elder woman's slightly jutted ribcage.

Buffy wiggled beneath her slaying partner; Faith's mouth had inadvertently found one of her ticklish spots. As she squirmed, her shaved sex came into contact with the Boston girl's strong upper thigh. The Californian gasped when her clit rubbed against the muscled appendage and she instinctively ground herself onto Faith's leg to receive more friction. Her wetness spread on the brunette slayer's naked thigh.

"S-Slow, B," the Boston girl stuttered. Showing unreasonable willpower, she pulled her thigh away from Buffy's slick channel. Faith wiped her fingertips along her damp thigh and pulled her digits into her mouth. She moaned around her fingers, her tongue dashing out to eagerly taste the Californian's sweet arousal.

The elder woman groaned in disappointment and frustration. "Please, Faith," she rasped. Her hips thrust upward, hoping to garner some kind of contact, but the Boston girl merely moved her body with the undulating slayer rather than reward her for her impatience.

Faith smiled down mischievously at her impetuous bedmate. "It's not time for that yet," she quietly chastised. She lowered her head down to Buffy's perky breasts and grinned. "It's not just about you, you know," darting her tongue out against the Californian's pebble-hard nipples. "I've been dreamin' about this for too long to dive right in."

The Boston girl pulled another gasp from the elder slayer as her tongue flicked against one of Buffy's sensitive nipples. One hand rolled the other nipple gently between her thumb and forefinger while her mouth danced over the other straining breast. Buffy arched her back into her lover's hot mouth, and wrapped her fingers around the brunette's wild locks.

She pulled Faith's face down, mashing her against her breast, wordlessly encouraging her for more. But the dark slayer maintained her steady, gentle ministrations, not increasing the pressure of her fingers or her tongue. Faith lazily ran circles around Buffy's nipple with the tip of her tongue while her fingers continued to gently tweak the other sensitive bud.

Buffy sighed when the younger slayer rotated her mouth to the other breast. She sucked the Californian's nipple into her mouth and lightly bit down on the small bud. The small slayer whimpered and rolled her hips suggestively.

Faith released her lip-lock on Buffy's breast and smiled warmly at her lover. "Patience, girlfriend," the Boston woman quietly chastised before returning her attentions back to the elder woman's breasts.

Buffy slid one hand under the covers and found her way between Faith's parted thighs. Her fingers easily slid through the Boston girl's arousal. Both slayers moaned when the Californian's fingers slipped over Faith's outer lips and brushed against her slightly protruding clit. "Fuck, B," the Boston girl growled, as the elder woman gently slid the tip of her finger along her wet slit, pulling more arousal from her cunt. "That's not fair."

The blonde grinned coyly at her lover, before sliding a single digit up into Faith's hot core. "Slow, right?" she quietly taunted.

Faith moaned, momentarily forgetting the golden-haired slayer's naked breasts as Buffy's finger slid deeper into her wet pussy. "Buffy," she panted uselessly in protest. The brunette tried to clamp her thighs together to make it harder for the elder woman to thrust inside her, but with the Californian's body straddled between her legs, she could only minimally deny her access.

Buffy sat up in bed. With her free hand, she pushed on the inside of Faith's thigh, prying her legs further apart. The Californian stretched her upper torso to ravenously kiss the younger woman. "I thought you would have learned by now, Fai," she smiled, "I always get my way."

The blonde slayer slowly pulled her single digit nearly completely out of the Boston girl's tight pussy. Her finger was thoroughly coated with Faith's thick arousal. Slowly Buffy pushed her finger back inside the dark slayer and felt the younger woman's cunt clench around her digit. Her wetness clicked, filling the silent bedroom with the sound of Faith's arousal.

The raven-haired woman slumped forward slightly, her legs parting for her lover. She rested all her weight on her knees, and held herself stable with one hand on Buffy's shoulder. Although Faith had wanted to tease and delay the elder woman's satisfaction, she wasn't masochist enough to deny herself an orgasm.

"Where are you," Faith wheezed, unable to fully concentrate with Buffy's finger still buried inside her. "where are you going?"

The Californian smiled up mischievously at the raven-haired girl and used her legs and free hand to propel her further down the bed until her face was level with Faith's parted thighs. A low groan escaped the dark slayer. From this position, it looked like she was sitting on Buffy's face.

Faith tossed her head back and screwed her eyes shut when the elder girl thrust hard inside her. Blindly, she reached down with one hand and cradled the back of Buffy's head, pulling her up deeper into her pussy. The Californian sucked hard on the younger woman's sensitive clit while thrusting her finger deep into Faith's wet core.

"Buffy," Faith called out in a strangled voice. She wanted to scream out her lover's name, but knew that the slayer's mother and sister slept just beyond the closed bedroom door.

The Californian grunted beneath the Boston girl, sending an unexpected vibration up through the dark slayer's body. Faith felt like Buffy had just touched a vibrator to the tip of her clit, and she sucked in deep breaths of air as her orgasm rocked through her disciplined form. "Ahhh, fuck," she strained out, her head slumping forward.

The blonde slayer continued to suckle on the taller woman's clit until Faith let out a noise and pushed the palm of her hand into Buffy's shoulder, forcing her head down into the mattress beneath their bodies. "Ahh, B. S-Stop," she lightly commanded, looking down at the surprise in the Californian's hazel eyes. "T-too much. I'm sensitive." The Boston girl attempted to move from her prone position above the elder slayer, but found her upper thighs unstable as Jello.

On shaky legs, the Boston girl finally repositioned her body so that she once again lay next to the Chosen One under the sheets. Buffy propped herself up on one elbow and stared at her lover expectantly. The younger woman gave her partner a lazy grin. "Yeah…you're a natural, B. Just like everything else you do," she winked playfully.

Buffy released a deep breath. "Good cause…you know…I was nervous."

Faith turned on her side and smirked at the elder girl. "After a year of foreplay, I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did."

Buffy blushed slightly in the darkness of the room. She still had Faith's arousal on her fingers and face and didn't quite know what to do next. What was the proper protocol for these kinds of things? Was Faith going to reciprocate now or should she excuse herself to the bathroom to clean up? And would the Boston girl take offense to that? Would she think that Buffy hadn't _enjoyed _what they just did?

The Boston girl's eyes slightly narrowed as she looked at the blonde. "You look like your brain is workin' overtime, girlfriend."

Faith's hands wandered under the sheets and found the smaller slayer's naked hipbones. She slipped one hand underneath the blonde's svelte waist and pulled her body closer. "I hope you didn't think we were done, baby." The brunette nuzzled her nose into the crook of Buffy's neck. "After all, what kind of person would I be if I enjoyed myself and left you unsatisfied?"

"A boy?"

"Touché," the dark slayer chuckled. "I'd better do something about that then." Faith licked along the outside of Buffy's earlobe. She breathed heavily into her lover's ear. "I wouldn't want ya mistakin' me for a dude."

Buffy swabbed her tongue against her bottom lip, tasting the raven-haired woman's arousal again. "I'm pretty sure there's no way I'd be able to make that mistake," she quipped.

Faith licked along the smaller woman's collarbone, tasting the thin sheen of sweat that had collected on the Chosen One's skin. "God, B. I wanna lick every inch of you," she growled. "I wanna taste you all over."

"Do you have to start all over from the beginning?" the blonde asked, her voice slightly quivering. "I mean, can't you just, uhm…"

The brunette slayer smirked and raised her eyebrows. "Anxious, much?"

Buffy returned the smirk with a coy smile of her own. "No," she shook her head, "just wicked horny, Fai."

Faith chuckled deeply. "Well you just said the magic words, Princess." She dipped her head under the cotton blankets and Buffy's eyes flipped wide open when she felt the Boston girl's tongue flick against her clit.

"No imagining I'm someone else while I'm down here," came the brunette's muffled command.

Buffy's hand went to the moving, sheet-covered lump between her parted thighs. "No-No," she stuttered. "Nothing to worry about there."

The blonde groaned into the darkness of her bedroom. Faith's fingers spread the woman's lips open and she slowly licked along every crevice and fold. Her lips moved along the insides of Buffy's quivering thighs, sucking the spilled arousal from the elder slayer's flesh.

Buffy whimpered when she once again felt the Boston girl flick just the tip of her tongue against her sensitive clit. She wanted to grab onto the younger slayer's face and reposition her exactly where she needed pressure, but worried that Faith might punish her more for showing such impatience once again.

The Californian pushed the sheet down, revealing the raven-haired woman's head and strong, shoulder blades. Faith paused momentarily and looked up at her lover. "What's wrong, B?"

"Nothing," the blonde woman gasped, rolling her hips slightly. "I just want to see you."

The younger slayer flashed the Chosen One a dimpled grin before returning her attentions to Buffy's pussy. She trailed a single digit up and down the blonde's seeping slit, collecting her arousal and spreading it around. Faith dipped her finger into Buffy's sex, just to the first knuckle before drawing it back out. She repeated the motion, causing her blonde lover to breathe hard.

"You feel so good on the inside, B," the Boston girl murmured as her eyes continued to stare at the elder woman's swollen cunt. She continued to fish a single finger slowly in and out of Buffy's pussy. Every thrust became deeper and harder, causing the breath in Buffy's throat to hitch, yet Faith continued to penetrate her lover with painfully slow and deliberate movements. "Your pussy wraps around my finger like it never wants to let go."

The Californian's sex became increasingly saturated with every penetration. The musky scent of sex lingered in the bedroom and the sound of Faith thrusting inside her clicked in her ears. "Fuck, B," the younger slayer growled as if in pain. She slid a second finger inside her lover. "Your cunt is so wet for me."

Buffy gasped sharply when she felt the brunette's fingers fill her. She thrust her small hipbones upward, meeting every downward thrust of her sister-Slayer. "Yeah, you like that don'tcha, baby," Faith purred as she watched the blonde's boyish hipbones rise and fall. "Your tight pussy can't get enough of me."

"Faith," the blonde slayer panted desperately. Her mattress started to creak and groan. "Please, I need your mouth on my-my clit," she begged. Her thighs fell apart, her knees slightly bent, opening herself completely to the brunette woman.

The dark slayer wet her lips and dipped her head back down to her lover's sex. She rolled her tongue in circles around Buffy's engorged clit, pulling a quiet hiss from the girl laying above her. She moved the elder slayer's clit back and forth with just the tip of her tongue while continuing to slowly push her fingers in and out of Buffy's core.

Buffy gripped onto the bottom sheet tightly, pulling handfuls of Egyptian cotton into the palms of her hands. "Faith," she gasped again, pulling the elasticized fitted sheet away from the sides of her mattress. "Yes, right there."

She groaned loudly when the Boston girl sucked her tender clit into her mouth. "Oh fuck, yes," she moaned, no longer caring that her family slept just beyond her bedroom door. "Your mouth, baby. God yes. Uhn, don't stop," she continued to encourage her lover as she clamped her eyes shut. "I'm so close, Faith. I'm so fucking close."

The Californian could feel the sweat pooling in her shallow belly button. As the dark slayer's talented mouth and fingers continued to push her closer and closer to climax, her body temperature continued to rise. Buffy's hands traveled across the front of her body, pressing into her lower abdomen, fluttering over her belly button, dancing up her ribs, and coming to rest on her aching breasts.

Her hardened nipples felt like small pebbles in the palms of her hands. Faith's free hand wandered up the elder slayer's body and rested on one of Buffy's breasts. The Boston girl squeezed the blonde's hand, causing her to grab more soundly onto her own breast. Together, the two slayers kneaded the pliable flesh of Buffy's chest.

Buffy released her hold on her breasts and her hands and arms went above her hands to grasp tightly to the sides of her wooden headboard. The head of her bed groaned and strained under the pressure. Faith continued to palm her lover's modest breasts. She withdrew her sticky fingers from Buffy's core and twisted and tweaked the tender nipples. The brunette rolled the sensitive beds between her fingers, pulling on them hard, earning herself yet another loud groan from the golden-haired slayer.

The Boston girl shifted her weight, pulling herself up on her knees and lower limbs. She buried her face deeper into her lover's clenching core, licking hard at Buffy's clit. "Oh, shit!" Buffy called out, feeling a sharp stab of pleasure attacking her insides.

Faith returned her two fingers to the elder woman's tightening sex. She pushed her digits in hard, forcing her way through the telltale tightness. She lapped at the Californian's swollen clit, suckling it more slowly and tenderly. Buffy released her hold on the headboard and one hand went between the dark slayer's clenching shoulder blades. The Boston girl's back felt damp with sweat.

Buffy felt a slow-building pressure creeping around inside her lower abdomen. She had climaxed before with other lovers and from her own ministrations, but this felt new. "Ah-h-h-h-h…" she groaned out as an intense, yet soothing climax washed over her entire body. She felt like a flower opening up to bloom for the sun. She felt like she was sinking inside a warm bath while a hot shower beat down from above.

Faith climbed back up the bed and wrapped her thin arms around the smaller slayer's damp body. "So?" she murmured huskily into her lover's ear. She could smell the slight scent of sex and sweat on the blonde's warm skin. "What did you think?"

Buffy snuggled herself deeper into the Boston girl's yielding flesh. "You were right," she breathed. "Slow is good."

Somewhere in the town of Sunnydale, a black helicopter landed in an empty playground. A group of darkly dressed soldiers climbed into the military transport. The Iowan Marine hesitated at the door and scanned the darkness looking for the one girl for whom he would have given it all up.

Elsewhere in Sunnydale, a blonde slayer sighed contentedly and curled deeper into her dark lover's arms.

And in a secret, underground Sunnydale laboratory, a blonde scientist smiled maternally at her latest creation. "Let's see those Slayers try to interfere with _this_,"she murmured manically as the hybrid monster sat up from the surgical table.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Faith awoke to a sharp pain in her side. A small, yet surprisingly strong foot connected with her lower ribs, shoving her out of bed. The dark-haired girl flailed her arms, and landed solidly on the carpeted floor. She swung her legs and feet out wildly from her new position on the floor, but only managed to become more tangled in the sheets that had slid off her bed along with her body.

"God, you're a sound sleeper," came a feminine voice above her.

Faith pulled the cotton sheet away from her face to see the elder slayer smirking down at her. The blonde's golden hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore pajamas on her lithe form.

"That's some alarm clock you've got there, B," the brunette woman complained bitterly and she continued to struggle with the stubborn blankets. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

The California slayer stifled a giggle. "I tried to wake you up nicely, but you just kept slapping my hands away and moaning incoherently."

Faith sat up a little straighter on the floor. She licked her lips and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I think _you _were the one doin' the incoherent moanin' last night, Twinkie."

Buffy frowned. "Downstairs," she ordered. "Now. We have to make it look like you slept on the couch. My mom is gonna be up any minute now."

Faith's mouth opened wide. "But…"

"Listen, Fai," the Chosen One interrupted. She walked over to her bedroom window and pulled the blinds up, allowing more morning sunshine to stream into her room. "My mom might be cool. One might even call her open-minded, but instead of her walking in on us like this, I'd like to give her _some _warning before I tell her –,"

"That I ate your pussy last night?" the dark-haired girl interjected with a smug smile.

The blonde blushed and rolled her eyes. "Just get downstairs, please?" she pleaded.

Faith sighed loudly and scowled as she scanned the room for her discarded clothing. Her clothes from the previous night were haphazardly scattered around Buffy's bedroom. The California slayer assisted the brunette by throwing a t-shirt and pajamas pants at her head. Faith caught the clothes and quickly pulled the top on over her naked upper torso. "Fine," she grumbled, not looking happy to be putting clothing back on.

The Boston girl hopped up from the carpeted floor and pulled the pajama pants on. She looked down and grimaced. Not only were they too short for her long legs and looked more like capris, but they also had ice-skating polar bears on them. "You _so _owe me, Princess," Faith grunted.

Buffy cocked her head as she regarded the scowling slayer. The blonde knew it was completely wrong of her to demand that Faith act as though the previous night hadn't happened, but the Chosen One wasn't quite prepared to deal with the consequences of their actions. Yes, she had been the one to initiate the coupling. Yes, she had had an amazing night. But now, the morning after, she couldn't help but feel rattled by how bold she had been with the brunette.

Buffy took a step toward her lover, and Faith's head popped back up when she felt those familiar hands back on her hips. The elder slayer's palms came in contact with a small strip of naked skin between the top of the Boston girl's too-small pajama bottoms, and bottom hem of the v-neck t-shirt. Faith's skin felt warm and soft, triggering memories of what had happened between them just a handful of hours before.

The golden-haired woman placed a gentle kiss on the younger slayer's twisted mouth and pulled back with a small smile. "And I can't wait to settle up my debts."

"So do you girls have any big plans today?" Joyce asked as she whisked the batter for her world-famous pancakes. The metal utensil clicked against the glass mixing-bowl.

The two slayers glanced briefly at each other. Buffy raised an eyebrow at the brunette who merely shrugged in response. It wasn't exactly the Boston slayer's style to make plans.

Faith had made it downstairs just in time to flop on the couch and throw some blankets around to give the appearance that she had spent the night sleeping downstairs, rather than upstairs with her arms wrapped around the golden-haired slayer. Joyce had descended the second-floor staircase shortly afterwards; and now she, the slayers, and Dawn stood around the island in the kitchen.

"Because I've been promising Dawn we'd go to that one pumpkin patch this weekend," Joyce continued. She sprinkled some cinnamon into the liquid mixture. "You know the one, Buffy, with the hayrides and the apple picking?"

"Ohh! I love that place!" Buffy's eyes lit up. She flashed a quick smile at the Boston girl. "Have you ever been to a pumpkin patch, Faith?"

The brunette's eyes dropped to the kitchen countertop. "Naw," she mumbled. "I've never really been into that holiday stuff."

"Oh, you _have _to come with us!" Dawn insisted in a high-pitched voice. She bounced slightly on her stool. "Mom, tell Faith she _has_ to come."

A knock at the back door interrupted their conversation and all eyes flickered to the kitchen door where Xander had his hands and face pressed up against the window. His nose was angled to one side and his lips and cheeks looked warped from being squished against the pane of glass. Dawn giggled and immediately hopped off her stool to let the brown-haired boy inside.

The youngest Summers girl laughed again when she opened the kitchen door. "You know Mom's gonna make you clean that window now," the teen girl snickered, pointing at the smudge spots Xander's face had left behind.

The young man strode into the back room, followed by his redheaded best friend. "It's totally worth it as long as I still get breakfast," the boy beamed, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Joyce checked the turkey sausage on the front burner. "Good morning, you two," she smiled. "Breakfast's almost ready. Xander," she announced, "the Windex is under the sink."

Xander's face fell and Willow gave him a playful nudge. "You thought she was kidding about that, huh?" the young witch giggled.

Faith snorted from her seat at the kitchen counter and reached for a piece of dry toast. A tower of unbuttered toast teetered on a plate in front of her on the kitchen island. The blonde slayer playfully slapped the Boston woman's hand away. "Wait until the rest of the food is ready, Fai," she lightly chastised.

The brunette gave the elder girl a mischievous smile. "Can't help it, B," she smirked. "I'm wicked hungry from all that excitement last night. I mean, the only thing I had to eat last night was your – mmrrpph."

The Boston girl's speech was quickly silenced when the golden-haired slayer hastily shoved a piece of toast into her open mouth. Faith smiled around the large piece of bread and began to chew noisily, smacking her lips. The blonde girl looked flustered, and her hazel-green eyes darted around the kitchen.

Buffy's eyes finally settled on the redheaded Wicca. "Where's Tara this morning, Wills?" she asked in a strained voice, eager to take the focus away from her interaction with the brunette. "She's more than welcome to come over too, you know." Buffy glanced at Xander who had just finished cleaning the window over the back door. "Anya too, Xand."

The witch nodded. "I know, Buff. And that's totally sweet of you all," she added. "Tara just had a lot of homework to finish up before classes tomorrow. We didn't exactly get much work done last night since…" she trailed off and flicked her eyes between the others Summers women. Dawn continued to stare at Xander with admiration, unaware that anyone else was in the room, and Joyce was concentrating on the final pancakes on the electric griddle.

"Since you went to the movies last night?" Faith helpfully interjected. She wiped a few breadcrumbs from the corners of her mouth.

The Wicca looked at the brunette. "Uh huh," she nodded.

"Where's Anya, Xand?" Buffy asked.

"Oh," Xander commented, putting the glass cleaner away and finding a seat around the island, "she had to open the Magic Shop this morning. Sunday's always a big business day."

"Dawn," her mother called out, putting the last of the pancakes on a serving plate, "get everyone a plate would you, sweetie?"

The teenaged girl sulked, but wordlessly obeyed her mother's request. Once everyone had a plate and silverware, the group heartily dug into the food in front of them. Joyce had made enough pancakes, toast, sausage, and juice to feed the small demon-hunting army.

"Awesome as usual, Mom," Buffy grinned as she bit off the end of a turkey sausage.

"Totally, Mrs. S.," Faith complimented the woman. She washed down a large mouthful of pancake with half of glass of orange juice. "Thanks for making breakfast."

"Oh, Mom!" Dawn squealed suddenly. Her high-pitched voice caused Xander to drop his fork and it clattered noisily on his nearly empty plate. "Can Xander and Willow come to Harvest Acres with us, too?"

Joyce laughed at her youngest daughter's enthusiasm. "Dawn, they might have other plans today," she gently reminded the girl.

"Oh man," Xander stated excitedly. "That's that pumpkin patch just outside of town, right? I'm totally in. How about you, Will?"

The redhead nodded. "I just have a little homework," she stated, "but I can totally do that in the car ride there."

Joyce smiled kindly at the brunette slayer. "Okay, so that just leaves you, Faith. How about it?"

Faith felt everyone's eager eyes suddenly burning into her. This family bonding stuff wasn't exactly her style. In fact it made her all kinds of uncomfortable. Plus, she had wanted to check out the remnants of the Initiative that day to assess the damage and the military's response. But if she got to spend another day with the blonde slayer, she reasoned, then who was she to deny herself some fun.

Faith flashed the group a brief smile. "Okay," she caved. "Count me in."

"Ahhhh! I _love _Fall!" the youngest Summers girl squeaked as their vehicle pulled into the farmer's field. The fallow field was crowded with other vehicles and families walked hand-in-hand around the impressive working farm. As soon as her mother parked the SUV, Dawn's seatbelt was off and she jumped out of the passenger-side door.

"Dawn!" Joyce called out after the teen as she rushed toward the ticket booth. "Don't get lost!"

Faith smirked at the blonde who sat beside her in the backseat. "I take it your little sis's a big fan of Fall, eh?"

Buffy unbuckled her seatbelt. "She's not the only one," she revealed with a shy smile. "Even I've gotta admit that there's always been something about apple cider and pumpkin seeds and scarves that makes me a little weak in the knees."

Faith leaned in dangerously close, causing the blonde's heartbeat to accelerate. "I know what else will make you weak in the knees," she murmured lowly.

The Chosen One shuddered slightly. "Don't Faith," she breathed. "Not here in front of everyone."

The Boston girl's hand slid onto the elder woman's taut thigh and subtly moved up. Sitting so close to the other slayer on the ride to Harvest Acres without being able to touch her had been acute torture. Faith could feel the heat emanating under Buffy's thin jeans. "What's wrong, B?" she rasped.

A sharp rap on the backseat window caused the blonde to jump away from the dangerous woman. Buffy instinctively slapped the Boston girl's hand away and looked up. Xander's smiling face beamed in at the two women, apparently having seen nothing of the slayers' intimate interaction. He and Willow had ridden up in his vehicle since there wasn't enough room for all of them in the Summers' car. "C'mon, you guys," his muffled voice reverberated through the back window. "Your mom got us all tickets for the hayride."

Buffy turned once more to look at the brunette slayer before hopping out of the car. "Can you _please _behave yourself today?" she implored.

Faith made a face. "That debt of yours just keeps gettin' piled higher and higher, cutie," she warned lightly.

"Good afternoon, everybody," came the cheerful voice over the P.A. "I'm Farmer Jeff and welcome to Harvest Acres," the man behind the wheel of the green tractor introduced himself. "In just a little bit we'll be going deeper into the farm, past the apple orchard, and into the pumpkin patches. Once we get there," he continued, "I'll stop the tractor and y'all can go pick your own pumpkins. So for now, just sit back and enjoy the ride."

The P.A. cut off abruptly and the engine of the John Deer tractor revved loudly. The speakers crackled before a muffled John Denver song blared out of them. Farmer Jeff fiddled with the controls to the giant tractor. The attached trailer lurched forward, and the small group inside banged into each other. Finally, the farmer manipulated the tractor into the right gear and slowly inched the farm vehicle forward.

"Isn't this fun?" Buffy asked her sister-Slayer seated beside her as they bounced along the dirt pathway. The small group cruised slowly past a large red barn, and turned down a narrower road through a forest of apple trees.

The Boston girl shifted uncomfortably in the trailer. "I've got hay pokin' in my ass," she grumbled, wiggling to find a comfortable spot on the hay bale. Rather than traditional seats in the tractor-trailer, the group sat on stiff bales lined up like benches. The Boston teen was thankful she had chosen to wear jeans today rather than leather pants. Who knows what kind of havoc the hay bales would have ravaged on the seat of her favorite leathers.

The blonde slayer gave the other girl a wicked grin. "I'm sorry, Fai." She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly and leaned in slightly. "I thought you would have liked that kind of thing."

Faith looked around anxiously, worried Buffy's friends and family might have overheard. Everyone looked preoccupied with the rustic surroundings, however, and the loud roar of the tractor pulling their trailer drowned out the elder slayer's sexual taunt.

Faith leered, confident that her words would only be heard by Buffy's ears. "To tell ya the truth, B," she rasped, "I've never been much of an ass girl; but if you're offerin' I definitely wouldn't say no."

Buffy felt her face grow hot and she looked away from the brunette's achingly beautiful face, and pretended to be interested in their surroundings instead. She was startled by how easy and comfortable it felt to return the flirtatious advances of the younger slayer. But she was even more surprised by her own eagerness to initiate the sexual familiarity.

The blonde knew she certainly had a lot to think about. It wasn't necessarily her attraction to another girl that concerned her; she knew her friends and family would accept that just as warmly as Willow and Tara's relationship had been welcomed. But Faith wasn't exactly Tara. In fact, she was the polar opposite of Tara. After everything that had happened in their past, would even _Buffy_ be able to wholly accept the formerly rogue slayer? Would she be able to completely trust her again?

When the tractor finally stopped, Faith hopped out of the slightly elevator trailer, eschewing the small steps that Farmer Jeff had brought out for the rest of the riders. The Boston girl waited for the rest of the group to exit the hay-filled trailer and looked out into the vast field of pumpkins.

"Wow," she breathed, her voice reverent when the blonde walked up beside her. "That's a lot of pumpkins." The brunette had really only ever seen the orange vegetable in small piles in front of grocery stores or in pairs on the front stoops of homes.

Buffy smiled warmly at her lover and slid her hand into the Boston girl's. "C'mon, Fai," she grinned. "Let's go find you your first pumpkin."

"Uh, you sure you can handle that one?" Farmer Jeff asked. His eyes darted between the Boston girl's form and the gargantuan pumpkin. It was time for the farm patrons to load back onto the trailer with their choice of gourd. The farmer's rule to the visitors had been they could keep whatever they could carry.

Faith had managed to find herself one of the largest pumpkins in the field. Its skin looked tough and weathered, deep creases decorated its exterior, and a thick stalk stood up from its top. As the farm employee regarded the beautiful brunette he reasoned there was no way a girl that size would be able to pick up, let alone carry, that large of a pumpkin.

The dark-haired slayer waved a hand at the concerned farmer, dismissing his verbal hesitation. "Don't worry about me," she declared. Faith rolled up the sleeves of her long-sleeved t-shirt and bent slightly at the knees. "I got this."

Buffy smirked from her position alongside the younger woman. The Californian had chosen a significantly smaller pumpkin with light yellow spots on its outer shell. "You're gonna scare the locals," she murmured for only the brunette to hear.

"So, what's next?" the dark slayer asked as she hefted her large pumpkin onto the back of the trailer. The naïve farmer's eyes bulged at the sight of the slightly muscled woman tossing her pumpkin into the back of the trailer as if it weighed little more than a bag of marshmallows.

Buffy laughed and grabbed the brunette's hand to give it a quick squeeze. The other girl's hand felt slightly gritty from the dirt on the pumpkin. "I knew you'd get into this eventually," the blonde smiled.

Faith's face looked youthful and truly happy. The warm sun shining down bounced off her playful eyes and her long, silken waves. The blonde had an overwhelming urge to lean into the younger woman and kiss the Boston girl's mouth; but she just squeezed the girl's hand harder instead.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly and climbed back into the trailer. "Meh. It's better than prison."

"Welcome to the Amazing Corn Maze," a teen boy in faded jeans and flannel shirt droned. It was clear that he had already given this same introduction a hundred times that day and was waiting for the end of the workday. "Please do no pick the corn or stray from the paths," he continued, his eyes looking bored as he flicked over the small group of six. "In teams of two, your mission is to find the exit before anyone else. If at any time you find yourself completely lost and need assistance out of the maze, just push this button." He held up a small black box that vaguely resembled the beeper one receives at busy restaurants. "Once you hit the button, someone from our staff will come retrieve you and guide you to the exit. Any questions?" The teen boy barely paused. "Good. When you hear the blow horn, the race is on. Have fun," he stated without emotion.

"You guys are _so _dead!" Dawn taunted as the farm employee disappeared. "Mom and I are totally gonna win this!" She set her jaw in a hard look of determination.

Xander grinned and rubbed his hands together. "I've got a witch on _my _side," he beamed. He locked arms with his redheaded friend.

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "No using magic to get through the maze."

Willow smiled innocently. "Okay," she conceded. "No magic if you guys don't, like, bully your way through the maze."

Faith snickered. "Maybe we should make a little wager and make this more interesting," she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

Buffy's eyes flashed with worry. She didn't like the sound of any kind of wager the dangerous brunette might suggest. Especially not with her mom, sister, and best friends involved. Although if it had been a personal wager between just the two of them… The blonde involuntarily blushed when her mind traveled to some surprisingly not-so-chaste imagery.

"How about losing team buys pizza tonight for everyone else?" the brunette suggested.

Buffy breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe Faith's mind wasn't _always _in the gutter. Although the blonde's brain seemed to be stuck in Gutterville as of late.

An air horn echoed through the air, causing the small group to collectively jump. Dawn squealed and took off running in one direction with her mother chuckling behind. "Not too fast, Dawn," she called.

Faith grabbed onto the blonde's hand and plunged them deep into the corn maze. The stiff stalks loomed tall above the pair. "Let's go, Blondie," the brunette breathed. "We've got an exit to find."

"Woah," Buffy giggled as the Boston girl dragged her along a well-worn path. "You really wanna win."

"Have you _seen _how much pizza we eat?" the brunette exclaimed, looking back briefly at the Californian. "There's no way we're gonna get stuck with that bill."

The Boston girl swore loudly when she and the elder slayer came to yet another dead end. "Mother fucker," the brunette complained, coming to an abrupt stop. "I didn't think this was gonna be so hard. Shouldn't we have natural skills at this kind of thing?"

Buffy stopped in her tracks a short distance away from Faith and raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "Corn mazes?"

The dark slayer chuckled and shook her head. Her loose brunette locks slightly fluttered. "No, you know – like directional stuff," she clarified. "Shouldn't we have built-in compasses or something?

The blonde shrugged. "Using that logic, you'd think I'd be able to drive a car. I mean, I can behead demons with countless weapons, yet I somehow can't manage to parallel-park."

The brunette licked her lips and her voice became low. "Well, you may have failed Driver's Ed, B," she purred, "but I'd give you an A+ for last night." She took a step closer and a glint of fear and arousal flashed behind the Californian's hazel-green eyes.

"What happened to behaving yourself today?" Buffy asked with a playful smile on her lips.

Faith looked around and gave the blonde a small shrug. "I'm just supposed to behave when your friends and family are around," she grinned. She reached out for the smaller slayer and wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling their bodies closer together. "Didn't say anything about when we were alone."

"Th-The race," Buffy stuttered when she felt the brunette's warm breath burst against her neck. "I-I thought you didn't want to get st-stuck with the pizza bill?"

Faith bent slightly and licked the hollow of the shorter woman's throat. "Guess that's the price I'll have to pay to be with you," she growled into her lover's fragrant skin.

A sharp gasp filled the slayer's ears. It took Buffy a second to register what exactly had made that noise. Faith's mouth had been traveling from her neck to her very sensitive earlobes, rendering her incapable of rapid thought.

The gasp wasn't her. And it hadn't come from Faith. So who…"_Oh God!"_ The blonde's eyes flipped wide open. She instinctively placed her palms flat against Faith's chest and pushed hard, forcing the taller woman to stumble backwards.

"B-Buffy?" the redhead's voice sounded unsteady.

"Willow! Xander!" the Californian exclaimed. Her best friends stood awkwardly in the middle of the cornrow, having found their way to the same dead end as the two slayers.

"We were just….Faith was just…." The elder slayer scrambled to come up for an excuse why the dark-haired woman had been holding her close and sucking on her ear lobe.

"Bugs!" the blonde blurted out suddenly. "I-I thought I had a tick…in…in my ear. And Faith was, uhm…she was just, uh…"

Xander gave his slayer friend a soft smile. "Sucking the venom out?" he offered.

Willow turned and gave Xander a strange look. "Ticks have venom?" she asked naively.

The brown-haired boy took his friend's hand in his own and patted her arm. "C'mon, Will," he murmured. "I think the exit's this way."

Willow stood still momentarily, her eyes continuing to dart between the two slayers who stood a few awkward feet from each other. Buffy's face had turned a deep red color and the Boston girl's eyes flashed with a silent anger. "Oh, uh, okay," the witch bumbled as she allowed her longtime friend to lead her in a new direction.

Buffy's hands went to her face when her two friends' wandered away. "Oh God," she mumbled between her fingers.

"What. Was. That?" Faith asked, enunciating each word. Her body seemed to twitch as if she couldn't decide between running away or staying to fight.

The Californian peeked between her fingers at the girl with whom she had shared her bed the previous night. "I-I was surprised, that's all," she muttered miserably, dropping her hands to her sides. "It just came out."

Faith's eyes closed and she turned her head away. The muscles in her jaw twitched. "Would it _really _be that bad if your friends knew about us?" She opened her eyes again. "I mean, if there is even an 'us' to tell about?"

Buffy cringed when the brunette's arm lashed out at her suddenly. She didn't know why she thought the younger woman was going to strike her. Maybe because she knew she deserved getting smacked. But rather than the blow landing, the Boston girl merely snatched the black box from Buffy's hands.

Faith stared at her sister-Slayer with disbelief. The Californian's physical reaction had not gone unnoticed. "You thought I was going to…" She shook her head bitterly and sucked in a deep breath. "Never mind, B," she stated, the pain thick in her wavering voice. "Let's just forget the whole thing. It's not worth it."

The rogue slayer pressed the button on the box and dropped her head in defeat.

The ride back to Sunnydale from the pumpkin patch had been quiet. Although the two slayers had once again shared the backseat of Joyce's SUV, the two girls ignored each other, staring out their respective side of the vehicle's back windows. Dawn's bubbly voice, however, had more than made up for the tense silence that blanked the backseat.

When the vehicle pulled into the driveway, Faith scrambled out of the backseat before the eldest Summers woman had even turned off the engine. "Faith," the maternal woman called out the open window as she saw the dark teen scamper out the backseat. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Faith bit her bottom lip and her eyes flickered to the backseat where Buffy continued to sit. The blonde looked stonily out a back window, away from the Bostonian. "Yeah, Mrs. S," the brunette slayer claimed. "I just forgot that I promised Giles I'd be back early."

Dawn poked her head around her mom. "But we haven't even carved the pumpkins," she pointed out. "And then we're gonna bake the seeds!"

Faith's hands went to the back pockets of her jeans, and she looked away from the teen's pleading gaze. "Sorry, you guys," she mumbled uncomfortably. "But I really gotta go. Go ahead and carve my pumpkin for me."

Before any of the Summers women could protest further, the rogue girl turned on her heels and stalked away in the direction of Giles' flat.

Dawn immediately turned in the front passenger seat to glare at her older sister. "What did you do _now_, Buffy?" she accused.

Buffy remained silent and ignored her younger sister. The blonde bit her bottom lip and continued to stare out her window at nothing in particular. Her eyes filled with water and the trees outside became just blurry green blobs.

TBC


	22. Chapter 20

Buffy looked up briefly when she heard the front door open. She looked back down at her hands resting on her lap when she saw her mother peeking out.

"Sweetie?" Joyce started in a hesitant, yet gentle voice. "Is everything okay?"

Buffy blinked hard a few times and reached up to wipe away the tears that had quickly sprung up. "Uhm. Yes?" she squeaked, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. "I don't know? No?"

After arriving back at the Summers' residence, the happy group had eagerly plunged into pumpkin carving. Minus Faith.

Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Joyce had dug into their respective pumpkins, carving up an assortment of goofy and scary gourd faces. There had been fun, there had been laughter, there had been goo fights and the baking of pumpkin seeds. But there had been no Faith. And Buffy had sorely felt the absence of her sister-slayer.

Willow and Xander had been kind enough not to mention anything about what they had stumbled upon at the corn maze, but a part of Buffy wished that they would. If no one else brought up the topic, she was wildly unsure of how to bridge the subject on her own. She didn't even know how to explain how she was feeling to herself, let alone to anyone else.

Without looking up, the blonde heard the front porch squeak as her mother softly padded closer to her. The metal chains on the old wooden swing creaked as Joyce sat down beside her eldest daughter.

"What is it, Buffy?" her mother asked, placing a maternal hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You've been quiet ever since we got back from the pumpkin patch," she observed. "What's wrong?"

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip and continued to stare straight ahead. "It's just…" she hesitated momentarily and took a gulp of the brisk Fall air, "sometimes I worry that I'm going to end up alone."

A large silence fell between the two women. Joyce shifted uneasily on the wooden chair, causing the chain links to scrape loudly against each other. Finally, the blonde looked at her mother out of the corner of her eye. "You can jump in anytime, Mom," she deadpanned.

Joyce sighed deeply. "What happened with Riley?" she asked.

Buffy swallowed hard and shook her head. "He…he wasn't who I thought he was," she breathed sadly. "And…and maybe I'm not who I thought I was either."

"Do you want to talk about it?" her mother asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Not right now, Mom," the blonde slayer admitted. She turned in the swinging seat and gave the other woman a small smile of gratitude. "But thanks."

Joyce glanced fleetingly at her eldest daughter and started to stand up. She shook her head, as if suddenly deciding something, and remained seated next to the blonde girl rather than returning inside the house. "Buffy," she started solemnly. Her voice sounded loud in the quiet of the Sunnydale evening. "I think…"

Joyce stopped and her mouth opened, but no words came out. She smiled at herself as if amused and quickly wiped away the tears that pricked at the corners of her warm eyes.

Buffy's forehead creased, and she looked at her mother questioningly. "Mom?"

Joyce gave her daughter a watery smile. "I think she's a very nice girl."

The blonde girl threw herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her neck. Buffy sobbed bitterly into her mother's sweater. "Oh Mom," she cried, "I think I ruined everything."

Joyce wordlessly stroked the back of her daughter's neck. Buffy was strong. She was a Slayer, after all. But the eldest of the Summers women knew that even if her daughter was physically invincible, she was still emotionally vulnerable. In this moment the blonde slayer was her lost, little girl, desperately looking for someone to love her as much as her heart was capable of returning.

Joyce remained silent, quietly consoling her daughter, full knowing that she had said all that needed to be spoken. Anything else would just embarrass them both.

"Buffy?" Joyce called out when her daughter quickly stood up and started toward the front porch steps. "Where are you going?"

The California slayer looked back toward her mother. "I need to find her, Mom," the blonde revealed with a small smile. Her hazel-green eyes seemed to twinkle in the early twilight. "I can't let her go to sleep tonight thinking I don't want to be with her."

Suggested Listening: "I Will Not Bow" – Breaking Benjamin

The crunching of ancient bones shattered the silence of Restville Cemetery.

"Who was I kidding?" the dark slayer steamed as she kicked out at the startled vampire. "There's no way Buffy Miss-Stake-Up-My-Ass Summers would ever stoop low enough to be with a Southie reject like me."

"Woah, Slayer," protested the solitary vamp. The undead man had been taking a shortcut through the Restville cemetery when he had the misfortune of running into the dark slayer as she finished off a handful of his compatriots. He held a hand against his rib cage, certain that the violent woman had broken some bones. "You seem kinda worked up tonight," he wheezed. "How about you take the night off?" he lightly suggested.

The demon barely dodged Faith's foot as the chunky boot narrowly missed his face. "She fuckin' _used _me," the Bostonian spat out bitterly. Her clenched fists went in front of her face in an aggressive posture. "Just a toy to help scratch that itch."

"No, really. You deserve a break," the vampire insisted. He held up one hand as if giving an oath. "And I promise that no evil things will do anything bad tonight."

"You can't promise me that," the dark-haired slayer sneered.

The vampire's eyebrows went up to his hairline. "And why not?"

"Because _I'm_ an evil thing," the Boston girl seethed in anger. "And I'm just gettin' started tonight." Faith launched her clenched fist forward, crushing the vampire's cartilage with one punch.

"Fuck!" the undead creature complained, holding his gushing nose. He staggered a few feet away. "You broke my fucking nose!"

The dark-haired girl appeared breathless. Her hair was slightly tousled from the brisk Fall wind and her eyes looked a little wild. "And you know what the most fucked up part of this all is?" she demanded with a sardonic grin. She shook her bloodied fists out. Her knuckles had split from punching too many dead things that night.

The ageless demon looked up. "No. What?" the vampire asked, seemingly interested despite his broken bones.

"After all the betrayal and lies," the dark slayer chuckled bitterly. "I still love her, more than ever."

The monster looked thoughtful. "Well," he mused, "that_ is_ pretty messed up."

Faith pulled the wooden stake from the inner lining of her leather jacket. "Tell me about it."

The weapon sliced through the thick night air and plunged hard into its intended target – the demon's unbeating heart. Faith returned the stake to its place within her jacket and shook the vampire dust out of her hair. Another creature of the night dead. And she was just getting started.

The brunette slayer shoved her bloodied hands deep into the pockets of her leather jacket. She scuffed her feet along the gravel pathway of Restville Cemetery, causing small stones to scatter and land on the unkempt lawn.

Buffy cheerfully skipped down the empty sidewalk. The streetlamps illuminated the way, although she had patrolled these streets so often the past few years, she could navigate the small city in complete darkness.

The blonde slayer felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Being open with her mother about her feelings for Faith had been even more liberating than when she had admitted to her about being a slayer. And the best part was, Joyce hadn't kicked her out of the house over it. No troubling ultimatums this time around.

Now she just needed to find Faith and apologize. She imagined there would be lots and lots of apologizing in her immediate future, but she didn't care. Too much time had passed already and the blonde wasn't about to let more slip by without the Boston slayer know that she was finally ready to be open with her friends, her family, and herself about the intense feelings she had for the other girl.

The Californian stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes. The Chosen One took a few deep breaths and instinctually cast out a net to capture the younger slayer's location. She had never really attempted to use their connection as a GPS system, but it was worth trying if it saved her an evening of aimless wandering. She could always sense when the girl was close, so it seemed as good of a solution as any. Besides, she figured playing Marco Pollo at this hour was useless.

A wide smile spread across Buffy's bronzed face when she felt that familiar tingle itching at the base of her spine. Faith had to be near. The tingles increased as the blonde continued to stand on the Sunnydale sidewalk, transforming from a persistent itch to a gentle hum as the dark brunette presumably walked closer. Apparently honing in on the Boston girl was a little like playing 'Hot and Cold.'

Buffy's eyes closed a little tighter and her eyebrows scrunched together. As she continued standing still, the buzzing at her spine exponentially increased. Her bones felt as though they were rattling inside her flesh. If she didn't know any better, she would have guessed that the dark-slayer was now standing right in front of her. The intensity of the vibrations made the small slayer slightly nauseous.

The California slayer slowly opened her eyes and gasped when she saw a shadowy figure standing in front of her.

The form was swallowed by darkness, but Buffy recognized the dangerous silhouetted curves. "Faith?" she called out. Her voice sounded strange to her ears.

The figure remained motionless. And wordless.

"Faith?" Buffy tried again, taking a tentative step forward. "I-I've been looking for you all night," she stated, her words low and cautious. Something about the Boston girl's silence rattled her. It had to be her, however. Even if she couldn't see Faith's face, she could _feel _it was her.

"I need to apologize, Fai," the blonde continued. "I'm _so_ sorry about what happened earlier," she expounded. "Willow and Xander, them showing up like that…it surprised me. But I shouldn't have reacted like I did."

The dark figure continued to remain motionless and silent.

"I don't know what I'm so afraid of," Buffy stated, her words pained. "This whole situation just makes me feel out of control. And I'm not used to that," she admitted with a wistful smile. "And it's not just the girl-girl thing either," she insisted. "It's a _you _thing."

"Don't take it the wrong way though," she quickly back-peddled. "That's not a _bad _thing. It's just…" She paused, looking for the right words. Buffy had always been a good speech giver – the skill came with being a leader. But when it came to revealing her emotions and letting others in…perhaps she and Faith were more similar than she had ever realized.

The blonde sighed dejectedly. "I bet you're loving this, huh?" she cracked with a lop-sided grin. "Can we just…start over? I know I majorly messed up, but I can do better, I promise. No more secrets between the two of us," she pled. "And no secrets from my mom, Dawn, or any of my friends, okay?"

Buffy set her jaw hard. The Boston girl had remained silent throughout her heart-felt speech, but now the younger woman's lack of reaction was testing her patience. "Faith?" The name sounded hard when it escaped her mouth. "Please say something!" she urged. "I can handle getting yelled at, but this silent treatment is tearing me apart."

Finally, the figure took a step closer to the elder slayer. First a heavy combat boot appeared, now fully illuminated by the overhead streetlights. The boot was connected to dark green fatigues that covered strong, yet feminine legs. Buffy's eyes continued to travel upwards. A thick, black leather belt with a severe silver belt buckle dissected the female's torso. The slender waist and soft, ample breasts were topped with a tan, cotton tank top.

Soft waves of brunette hair tumbled down the figure's bare shoulders. But where the Californian had expected to find the familiar, slightly toned arms, the woman's left arm had been replaced with a bionic limb. The thin fingers stretched out like a mechanical skeleton, and an array of flashing buttons littered the silver-colored bicep.

Buffy looked up into her sister-Slayer's face as the figure stepped fully into the light. The blonde slayer gasped and her body went rigid. "Faith," she lamented, her face blanching. She felt the strength rush out of her body. "Oh, God. What did they do to you?"

The Boston woman's face looked like some monstrous Terminator reject. The right half of her face appeared unaffected – that familiar, achingly beautiful visage. But the left side was the same silver color as her left arm and hand. The skin was a hardened metal material that revealed no emotion or warmth. And where dark chocolate irises had once resided were now silver eyeballs punctuated with blood red irises. An ugly scar bisected her face where the two halves – one human, and one machine – connected.

"Slayer," the figure rasped in an all-too-familiar voice. "Mother has told me all about you." The voice was the same Bostonian husk, but the diction, the flow of the words was all wrong. The hybrid cocked her head thoughtfully to one side. "So small, and yet remarkably strong." A familiar smile crept onto her mouth, dimpled on only the human side of her face. The silver metallic portion remained in a hard line. "You will find I am also remarkably strong."

"You're not Faith," the blonde woman stated. Or at least she _prayed _it wasn't really Faith.

The machine woman blinked once. "Does not compute," she replied.

Acting on instinct, Buffy lashed out at the part-slayer/part-machine. She thrust a closed fist at the creature, but looked in horror when the Faith-look-alike easily caught her fist in a feminine paw. The Californian cried out in pain when the hybrid squeezed her fingers around Buffy's clenched fist. It felt like every bone and joint was popping out of the tensed skin.

A curious smile crossed the monster's misshapen mouth. "And it seems that I am stronger than you."

The Chosen One quickly lost consciousness when the creature's metallic fist connected with her face.

TBC


	23. Chapter 22

_The blonde scientist leaned over her form. The woman's mouth moved and her words sounded cloudy, muffled, and far away. "If you'd stop moving," she quietly chastised in a hollow voice, "then it wouldn't hurt so much." _

_Faith looked to her left and right. Both of her wrists were bound to the hospital gurney on which she lay. Small vials of the familiar, omniscient purple liquid were set up on a stainless steel table. Large, hollow needles and syringes were laid out on a metal tray nearby. _

_She tried to talk, to scream out some useless rant or protest, but her lips felt frozen together as if she were no longer in charge of her own body._

"_So much trouble for such a small girl," the military scientist murmured, double- checking that the leather straps that bound the slayer's wrists and ankles were fastened securely. Nothing would interrupt her now._

_Faith looked hard into the mad scientist's eyes, but inwardly recoiled when she saw whose reflection was mirrored in the blonde woman's eyes. It wasn't her own face she saw, reflected in the glassy bulbs glaring down at her. _

_It was Buffy's._

"_Don't," she tried to cry out. "Don't you dare hurt her." _

_Her voice would never make it to Maggie Walsh's ears, however. Faith was not in control of this body's mouth or vocal chords. She was only a visitor – a witness to these horrifying events._

_The small, manic scientist turned her back momentarily. Faith could hear the sound of metal and glass clinking together as Dr. Walsh tinkered in the background. The brunette strained her neck, hoping to see what the doctor was doing. She was unable to lift her head high enough, however, as a thick leather band kept her chest strapped down to the uncomfortable bed. _

_The small woman turned back towards the slayer, a large, foreboding syringe in one hand. Faith could see the mysterious, purple liquid in the clear glass container. Although she had never discovered the purpose of the opaque concoction, the formerly rogue slayer wanted to protect Buffy from its effects at all cost. Faith struggled to get Buffy's body free, but the restraints were too tight._

"_Hold still, Miss Summers," Maggie Walsh grinned. "Cause this is going to hurt like hell."_

The Boston girl woke to the shrill jangle of the telephone. She lay in her bed momentarily, unsure of the time, but sure that she didn't want to get up just yet. The blinds in her room were drawn, swallowing the room in perpetual darkness.

The telephone rang insistently in the adjacent room. "Yo, Giles!" the dark-haired woman yelled loudly, still lying flat on her back in bed. "Are you gonna get that or what?"

She paused, straining her ears to hear if the older man was moving through the rest of the apartment. The phone continued to ring in the kitchen, however, seemingly the only noise in Giles' flat.

Swearing under her breath, Faith vaulted out of bed and padded out of her borrowed bedroom. Whoever was calling certainly wasn't giving up anytime soon. The dark slayer grumpily grabbed the receiver from off the kitchen counter.

"Hello?" she answered in a raspy voice. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue felt thick and awkward as if she'd been drinking alcohol all night long.

"Oh, uh," came a soft, feminine voice on the other line, "is that you, Faith?"

The Boston girl coughed, clearing her throat to dislodge the heavy sleep. "Uh, yeah?" she stated hesitantly; not too many people knew she was staying at Giles', and her brain wasn't connecting the telephone voice to a face yet.

"Oh hi, dear," chirped the other woman's voice. "It's Joyce…Buffy's mom," she clarified as if the dark slayer knew of any other Joyce's and might get confused.

"Hey, Mrs. S.," the dark-haired slayer greeted. "Uh, Giles isn't here right now," she noted. Her husky voice started to sound more like herself the more her vocal chords woke up. "I'm guessin' he's at the Magic Shop already."

"Oh, well, I'm not looking for Mr. Giles," Mrs. Summers stated. "I'm looking for my daughter. Is Buffy there?"

Faith's eyebrows knit together. She quickly scanned the apartment. "Uh, no?"

"Oh," the maternal woman prodded, "did she already leave for school?"

"Mrs. S., not to be rude or nothin'," Faith sighed, "but how would I know where your daughter is?"

"Well, I thought that since Buffy didn't come home last night," Buffy's mother revealed, "she must have…uhm…spent the night with you?"

Faith shook her head, even though she knew the eldest Summers woman wouldn't be able to see her. "I haven't seen Buffy since the pumpkin patch," she answered.

Buffy's mother was quiet for a moment. "You mean you didn't see her last night?" she asked quietly.

"Only people I saw last night were dead," the brunette answered truthfully. "And now they're dead-er." Faith raked her fingers through her thick, tussled hair. "Why would you think Buffy was with _me_, anyway?"

"It's just that she…uhm…went looking for you last night," Buffy's mother awkwardly revealed. "And when she didn't come home, I guess I naturally assumed she had spent the night with you."

"Naturally assumed?" The dark slayer's eyebrows curled up, forming an inquisitive look.

"You know…" Mrs. Summers hesitated, not wanting to have to say the actual words. "Because you're…"

"Because we're…." Faith fished, completely clueless as to what the blonde's mother was referring.

"Because you're…you know…" Joyce's voice dipped, taking a low, embarrassed tone. "Together?"

The wheels in Faith's brain churned momentarily and she was silent as she tried to process what Buffy's mom was getting at. Joyce's vague words suddenly clicked, however, and the brunette's chocolate eyes went wide. "I, uh," she scrambled anxiously. "H-How did you know a-about _that?"_

"Mothers always know these kinds of things, sweetie," she chuckled pleasantly. "And to avoid any further embarrassing conversations, let's just leave it at that." Joyce cleared her throat. "So you really didn't see Buffy last night?" she asked again.

"S-Sorry, Mrs. S," the Boston girl stated honestly, feeling slightly rattled by Buffy's mother. Why did she suddenly feel like the boyfriend getting grilled by the over-protective parents? "I wish I could tell ya differently, but I definitely haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon."

"Okay, well, I'm sure she's fine," Joyce breezed. "Maybe she just spent the night back at the dorm."

The brunette slayer pursed her lips together in thought. "Maybe…," she slowly conceded. But something in Faith's gut told her otherwise. The dream from which she had just woken up was evidence enough that something was amiss.

"Well, I've got to get to the gallery," Joyce noted. "Be a dear and ask Buffy to call me when you do see her, will you?"

"Uh huh," Faith nodded absently. "Sure thing, Mrs. S."

The rogue slayer hung up the phone and looked at the receiver thoughtfully as if she expected the telephone to suddenly speak. She remained quiet, standing in her pajamas in Giles' kitchen.

Her brief, but revealing conversation with Mrs. Summers had suddenly given her a lot to think about. Buffy had been looking for her last night. And Joyce knew about their fledgling relationship.

But all of that would have to wait until later. First she needed to find Giles. Buffy was most certainly in trouble.

Buffy's long eyelashes fluttered open. She smiled warmly when she recognized the beautiful face staring down at her. "Morning, Fai. I had the _worst _nightmare," the blonde slayer lazily murmured. "I dreamt I royally freaked out about us and you ran away. And then when I found you again, it wasn't really you; you were like a Terminator version of yourself."

Faith continued to stare wordlessly down at her. Buffy moved her hand to cup her lover's flawless face, but tensed when she realized she couldn't move her hand. The California slayer turned her head, feeling her insides recoil when she saw the thick leather bands strapping her wrists tightly to the small bed on which she reclined. She tried to sit up, but found herself immobile due to another strap of leather drawn across her chest and binding her ankles as well. But this was no dominatrix fantasy starring she and Faith. The Californian immediately knew she was in trouble.

IV needles protruded from either forearm. The hollow needles were securely taped down to the insides of her bronzed limbs. Connected to the needles were long, plastic tubes, allowing an opaque, purple liquid to stream into her veins. The slayer immediately recognized it as the same compound the Initiative had streamed into the Boston woman just a few weeks ago.

"Faith? I-I can't move, Fai," Buffy stated in a panicked voice. She continued to uselessly wiggle around on the bed.

Buffy mentally noted that she was confined in a small, windowless room. The room smelled strongly of iron and a pungent potpourri. A series of hospital-like beds filled the room and the walls were lined with metal shelves and empty mason jars as if she was in a canning cellar. She couldn't tell if she was underground, however, like at the Initiative, or simply in a building somewhere.

A flash of panic assaulted her system. Maybe she wasn't even still in Sunnydale anymore. She could be _anywhere_. And she had no idea how much time had passed since she lost consciousness. "W-Where are we?" the small slayer asked, the words wavering. "What's going on?"

The brunette figure licked her lips, and continued to stare down at the confined slayer, but remained silent.

"Faith! Can you hear me?" Buffy cried out. "Faith? What has she done to you?"

The blonde slayer strained against the leather binds, so that she could brush her fingertips against the slayer-machine's wrist. Faith's dark eyes momentarily flicked down to where their skin was touching, but her face remained emotionless. "Please, Faith," Buffy implored. "There's got to still be some of you inside there."

"I'm so sorry, Faith," the elder slayer continued. "This is all my fault. If only I had just been honest about us from the very beginning….you never would have run off…this never would have happened." She touched her fingertips against Faith's wrist again, the only way she could come in contact with the younger woman's body. "I need you to help me get out of here."

The Californian's hazel-green eyes searched her lover's face for some sign of recognition. "Then we'll find some way to fix you. I'll help make it right again, Faith," she promised. "But I need your help right now."

A heavy metal door opened across the room. The material noisily screeched open on its rusted hinges and closed again with a loud slam.

Faith stepped away from her sister-Slayer's bedside and looked up toward the sound. "Good morning, Mother," she greeted the room's newest occupant.

Maggie Walsh nodded curtly at the brunette and made her way over to the captive slayer's bedside. "Glad you could join us, Miss Summers. I didn't know how long it would be until you regained consciousness again." Walsh smiled, her blue eyes crinkling at the sides. Her eyes scanned from the bound slayer up to the brunette again. "And I believe you've already met Lilith. Lilith was kind enough to find you and bring you here."

"What did you _do _to her, you monster?" Buffy was on the verge of crying. "Let us go!" she demanded. The blonde slayer struggled to break out of her binds, but the leather straps at her ankles, wrists, and chest were too tightly bound.

The military scientist chuckled. "There's no need struggling, Miss Summers," she stated. "I wouldn't have tied you down like that just so you could get yourself free."

Dr. Walsh looked lovingly toward the brunette slayer and stroked her fingertips through the ends of the woman's brunette mane. Faith remained motionless, and only smiled down at the small scientist. "It's quite the upgrade, isn't it?" Walsh breathed. "A vast improvement on your little slayer friend, I must say." She looked sternly at the California slayer. "I wasn't quite ready to send her out yet; but I didn't have much choice, what with your friends blowing up the Initiative like that."

Walsh's gaze returned to her stoical creation. She reached up and carefully touched the hybrid slayer's flawless face. Faith allowed the touch, not flinching or backing away from the military woman. Gone was any sign that a machine might reside under the olive-tinted flesh. Her eyes were no longer red, but now an all-too-familiar chocolate brown. "But now she's perfect," the blonde scientist beamed.

The Chosen One grit her teeth. "What do you want with us?" she challenged with as much bravado as her small form could muster.

Walsh seemed unconcerned by the elder slayer's question and continued on her manic tirade instead. "It had been my intension to create my children from demon, human, and machine parts," she noted. "But then I came across you and your little brunette friend. You slayers had the strength my soldiers needed," she smiled. "I naturally, made a few more enhancements, using the military's advanced robotic technology. And Lilith is my first, but certainly not my last, creation."

Dr. Walsh pointed at a metal, folding chair, indicating that the brunette should sit down. Obediently, the Boston-look-alike took a seated position in a corner of the room.

Buffy swallowed hard and shook her head, willing the stinging tears to stay at bay. Now was not the time to cry. "Tell me that's not really her. Tell me you haven't cut her up like some Frankenstein creation," she pled. "Isn't it bad enough that you people tortured her and cut into her brain?"

Maggie Walsh's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "When your friend Faith came into our care at the Initiative," she began, "I was awarded the greatest opportunity. When I initially leaned about the existence of the Slayer, I immediately wanted to examine you under a microscope." She sighed wistfully. "At the time, however, I didn't dare to do so because Riley was so attached to you. He was always my most talented and dedicated soldier. But now that he's been reassigned," she said the word as though it left a bad taste in her mouth, "there's nothing to get in my way."

The blonde slayer stifled a sob. "And what do you plan on doing to me?" She shook her bound arms as much as she could. "What are you injecting me with?"

"Not that your little blonde brain would be able to wrap itself around the scientific genius of this compound," the scientist snipped, "but in laymen's terms, this special liquid mixture will bind itself to your DNA. Once you've ingested enough," she continued methodically, "I'll extract a sample of your blood. This will allow me to compare your DNA to your friend Faith's as well as a sample of regular human DNA. With this information, I'll be able to decipher if there's something unique to your genetic make-up that makes you slayers."

"Just think, Miss Summers," she continued grandly, beginning to pace around the small room. "If I can find a _genetic _rather than _magical_ reason why you girls are so strong…." Her eyes narrowed slightly and she gazed off in the distance as if she forgot anyone else was in the room with her. "If I can isolate a genetic marker…the possibilities are endless. We could program children, still in the womb, to be as strong as you. We could raise undefeatable armies, teeming with natural-born warriors."

"But why?" Buffy demanded. "The Initiative is finished. My friends destroyed it," she pointed out, "and Riley told me –"

Walsh blinked a few times and shook her head. "Riley was a fool," she snapped bitterly. "And so are you. The U.S. government never had the backbone for the breadth of my vision," she snarled. Dr. Walsh's thin lips twisted into a strange, manic smile. "But as long as there's fanaticism and avarice in the world, I'll always find financial backers for my little pet projects."

The blonde could only stare in horror at her former college professor. The California slayer had come head-to-head with the many faces of Evil since being Called; she had averted numerous apocalypses; but she had never come across a mere human so bent on world destruction.

"What's wrong, Miss Summers?" the scientist snorted mirthfully. "No more witty or scathing remarks? No 'you'll-never-get-away-with-this' or 'I'll-make-you-pay-for-what you've-done'?"

Buffy clenched her teeth, gnashing her back molars together. She remained uncharacteristically silent. A million assaults filtered through her brain; but none was quite fitting enough to encompass the rage and hatred she now felt for Maggie Walsh flooding through her veins.

"I'll leave you alone with your thoughts. As minor as they might be," Dr. Walsh sniffed. "Come along, Lilith," she ordered, snapping her fingers. The hybrid slayer's face suddenly became alert. The scientific doctor made her way toward the make-shirt laboratory's exit, and the Faith-look-alike stood stiffly from the folding chair to follow her creator.

"I've got an errand for you."

TBC


	24. Chapter 23

Willow and Tara walked hand-in-hand across the UC-Sunnydale campus. The sun shone down on the two young lovers and they strolled along the paved sidewalk, oblivious to the mix of horrified and lecherous looks their handholding produced from fellow students.

"I just don't understand," the redhead lightly complained, "how can you call a class 'Magic, Religion, and Witchcraft' and yet only spend _two weeks _of the semester on the 'Magic' and the 'Witchcraft' parts? I mean, by the course title alone, you'd think that _two-thirds_ of the course would be dedicated to that."

Tara smiled sweetly at her animated girlfriend. "Why don't you say something to your professor, sweetie?" She tucked an errant strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. "I'm sure he'd listen to you if you were reasonable about it."

Willow nodded absent-mindedly. Perhaps her girlfriend was right. Her anthropology was a little stuffy at times, but he couldn't argue with logic.

"Isn't that Faith over there?" Tara subtly pointed across the quad, popping the redhead's thoughts away from her college courses.

Willow squinted her eyes in the sunlight to make out the slayer's form. The dark-haired slayer was stiffly walking deeper onto upper campus away from them. The Boston girl was dressed in dark fatigues and had a carton of cigarettes clutched in one hand.

"I think you're right." Willow grinned at her girlfriend and gave her hand a squeeze. "Good eyes, baby."

"We should go see if maybe she wants to grab a coffee with us," Tara suggested. "We haven't really done much together, and it might be nice…you know…to let her know that we're glad she's back?"

The redheaded Wicca smiled and leaned in to give her partner a quick kiss on the cheek. "That's why I love you," she murmured. "Always thinking about other people."

Tara's cheeks flushed slightly, glowing with a light pink color.

"Faith!" Willow called out. She waved her free hand high in the air to garner the brunette slayer's attention. "Faith!" she tried again, straining her vocal chords. "Over here!"

The dark-haired slayer didn't hesitate or stop to look around at the sound of her name being called out across campus. Instead, she continued to stare straight ahead and practically marched toward the residential section of campus.

"Did she not hear you?" Tara asked, her face puzzled as she looked after the slayer's quickly retreating form.

Willow frowned. "She _should _have heard that," she murmured to her girlfriend. "Especially with Slayer hearing."

"I guess coffee will have to wait for another day," Tara stated.

The redhead tightened her grip on her girlfriend's hand. "No," she insisted. "I think something's wrong. Let's follow her and see what's going on."

"Where's Giles?" the brunette slayer blustered as she crashed through the front entrance of the Magic Shop.

Anya looked up from her position behind the cash register. "Well good afternoon to you too, Faith," she quipped. "I haven't been human for that long, and even _I_ have some manners."

"Where is he?" Faith demanded again with a hard look on her face. "Buffy's in trouble," the Boston woman blurted out.

"It must be Tuesday," the former vengeance demon stated dryly.

"Anya." The rogue slayer's eyes flashed dangerously. "Now."

"Giles is in the basement," the Magic Shop employee sighed. "He said something about needing to alphabetize." She waved her hand in the direction of the basement door.

"I don't think he's really working though. It's come to my attention that I'm really the only one who does any real work around here," Anya complained with a dour look on her face.

"Willow and Tara just come here to read the books and make googley-eyes at each other. And Buffy's even worse; she only comes in to punch things in the back room – usually my Xander," she ranted. "Then she leaves – panting and sweaty, like the store is her own personal gym. Never even volunteers to use her slayer muscles to lift boxes or even just sweep the floor," the woman complained.

"Uh, yeah," Faith breezed, not really hearing the magic store employee's complaints. The dark-haired slayer evaded the rest of the former demon's rant, rushing past her and down the basement stairs where she found the Englishman flipping through a large box of folders.

"Faith? What is it?" the former Watcher asked, immediately recognizing the storm brewing behind the brunette's dark eyes. He set the large cardboard box back on a wooden shelf next to an aged skull.

"Buffy's missing," Faith repeated. "I think she's in trouble."

The former librarian calmly removed his glasses from their perch on his nose and wiped at the lenses with the shirt-tales of his button down dress-shirt. "How do you know she's missing?" he asked.

The Boston girl's disciplined form twitched, as if readying itself for action. The world felt like it was moving too slowly when all she wanted to do was find the blonde slayer. "Her mom called your apartment and said so," Faith revealed curtly. "Plus I had a dream."

"A Slayer dream?" the man asked, suddenly looking more interested.

Faith nodded. "Uh huh," she confirmed. "I think that fucked up woman from the Initiative has her and is playing Dr. Frankenstein."

"Did you _see _her in the dream?" Giles posed.

The brunette woman shook her head and then stopped herself. "Uh, well kinda. I mean," she looked momentarily confused as she tried to mentally work out what had occurred in the cryptic dream. "_I _was Buffy in the dream," she recalled. "But the only way I knew it was her and not me is cause I saw her reflection in that Initiative woman's eyes….plus that lady called me 'Miss Summers' – dead giveaway."

"And did your dream give you any indication of Buffy's location?" Giles asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He could tell the brunette woman was having a hard time containing her own anxiety, and he didn't want his body language to project additional ill-feelings.

The dark-haired woman shook her head and looked upset. "What do we do now?" she asked desperately. Her dark eyes shone with emotion.

"Well, I suppose Willow could do a locator spell," the Magic Shop owner noted. "But I believe she's in class all afternoon. We'll just have to wait."

"I don't have time to wait for Red to get done with school," the Boston girl growled. "Buffy doesn't have time."

Giles frowned. "I'm afraid my hands are rather tied, Faith," he stated regretfully. "Unless you have another lead? Maybe if you could remember something else from your dream that tells you where she is?"

"It could have been anywhere," Faith complained in a huff. "It's probably underground though, knowing those military rats."

The ex-Watcher shook his head. "That doesn't really help us, I fear. Who knows how many secret underground facilities are located in a town like Sunnydale?" he pointed out, not unkindly. "The miles of sewers and underground tunnels would make it virtually impossible to find her without magic. Like a needle in a haystack."

Faith grit her back teeth. Even though she knew it wasn't Giles' fault that Buffy was missing, she couldn't stand his almost casual behavior upon learning that the blonde slayer was possibly abducted. She knew that waiting for Willow to return from class was the best plan, but the Boston woman had never liked plans or research. She was an Action kind of slayer.

"Well, while you wait for Willow to get outta class, I'm gonna go check out the Initiative," Faith boldly stated. "I'll see if I can find some kinda clue in all that rubble." She set her jaw hard. "I didn't recognize the room from my dream, but maybe those scientists set up shop again down there."

The Watcher nodded once. "Be careful, Faith," he warned, full knowing that nothing he could say would convince the Boston girl to stick around the magic store until the redheaded Wicca returned from class. "And if you find anything, _please _come back and get reinforcements," he sternly implored. "You'll do nothing to help either Buffy or yourself by jumping into the fray without a plan."

Faith turned on her heels without another word and clomped up the wooden stairs out of the basement. Anya looked up from a spreadsheet at the sound of Faith's heavy shoes. "Is he really alphabetizing down there?" she demanded, her face serious. "Or is he napping with the monkey claws like I suspected?"

The dark-haired girl ignored the former vengeance demon's question and pushed out the Magic Box's front entrance. She didn't have time to entertain Anya even if she knew she was being rude.

Faith moved quickly down the road, pushing past lazily walking couples who shouted out words of complaint. Giles' words of instruction rang hollow in her ears as she stormed down the sun-streamed streets of Sunnydale. The brunette slayer knew full well that if Buffy was in any trouble, there was no way she was going to wait for reinforcements.

Buffy stared hard, unblinking, at the ceiling above her bed-like prison.

"….Fifty-four bottles of beer on the wall…fifty-four bottles of beer…." The slayer's thin voice echoed in the empty room. "Take one down, pass it around…fifty-three bottles of beer on the wall."

The golden-haired slayer sighed deeply, pushing a long breath out of her lungs. The song had done little to entertain her while she lay abandoned in the makeshift laboratory. Dr. Walsh had sent Lilith out on an errand, and shortly after, the blonde-haired scientist had left as well, leaving the California slayer alone.

Buffy turned her head and looked at the glass vials set up next to her. All four were now empty – the ominous purple liquid had been completely injected into her body. It was only a matter of time now before Maggie Walsh completed her evil plan. Not that Buffy quite understood the plan, but it was certainly evil. That much she knew.

The Californian wiggled her toes, moving the blood through her feet and legs. She could feel the pins and needle tingles indicating her appendages were losing circulation. Her eyes moved from side to side, scanning what little of the room she could see, and she began to hum a wordless tune to pass the time.

"_Seriously, why do Evil Villains always leave just when it's getting to the good part? Couldn't Walsh speed things up a little? I think I may have to pee…"_ the blonde woman lamented to herself.

The Californian silently wondered what the blonde-haired scientist had planned for her once she extracted the necessary DNA from her for her project. She certainly wouldn't just release the Slayer; Buffy knew too much to just let go.

Would Walsh kill her? Or would she turn her into a mindless drone like Lilith? Buffy squeezed her eyes shut when she thought about the blank, unrecognizable expression on the brunette woman. She had to keep up the hope that it wasn't really Faith. It had to be magic. Or a clone. Or both. A magical clone.

She vowed to herself and whatever gods that might be eavesdropping on her thoughts that if she could somehow wiggle out of this situation, she would do everything in her power to make Maggie Walsh pay. Not only for what the mad scientist was doing to herself, but more importantly, what she had done to the Boston slayer.

Willow rushed through the front entrance of the Magic Shop, quickly followed by her Wicca girlfriend. "Anya!" the redhead blurted out. "Where's Giles?"

The former vengeance demon looked up from her glossy magazine and rolled her eyes. "Why does everyone today think I'm Giles' keeper?"

The English Watcher climbed up the final step from the Magic Shop basement and felt a rush of relief when he saw the two young witches on the main floor of his store. "Willow, Tara," he breathed. "I'm glad you're here."

"We saw Faith," Willow blurted out.

"Oh good," Giles stated. "Then she's told you that she believes Buffy to be in trouble?"

The two witches turned to look at each other, each with a puzzled look on her face. "We didn't exactly talk to her. We just…uhm…followed her," Willow revealed.

Tara nodded briskly. "We called out to her, but she didn't react. It was almost like she didn't recognize her name. And…" she added in a lower, conspiratorial voice, "I think she's smoking again."

"We followed her all the way back to Riley's old fraternity house," the redhead continued. "I kept calling her name, but she didn't turn around or stop. When she disappeared inside, we came back to find you. I was worried she was going into the old Initiative all by herself."

Giles scratched at his thin hair. "She did indicate she was going to investigate what's left of the Initiative to look for clues as to Buffy's whereabouts," he confirmed.

"Buffy's in trouble?" Willow asked, her face furrowed in worry. "What's wrong?"

The former Watcher looked distraught. "Faith has had a slayer dream. She believes that the Initiative has captured Buffy."

"But I thought the Initiative was toast?" Tara asked. She looked at her girlfriend. "Didn't we stop them?"

Giles sighed and looked tired. "It would appear that not everyone from the Initiative has left Sunnydale. Faith believes that Maggie Walsh is the one who has captured Buffy."

Willow scowled. "Dr. Walsh? I'm really starting to hate that woman."

"So that must be why we saw Faith by the old fraternity," Tara reasoned. "Looking for clues?"

Giles cocked his head to the side in thought. "I wonder how she managed to get over to the campus so quickly; she only just left the store a few minutes ago. And I don't understand why she would have ignored you," he pondered aloud. "But nonetheless," he said, turning to Willow, "I need you to perform a location spell and find Buffy. Once we ascertain her location, we'll drop by the Initiative and gather Faith. I imagine we'll need her slayer skills to help retrieve Buffy."

Willow nodded. "I've got everything we need back at the dorm," she stated eagerly. "We can stop there first and then head over to the abandoned fraternity house."

Giles turned quickly to face his dedicated employee. "Anya," he noted, grabbing his tweed jacket from off the coat hanger. "I trust you'll be fine to manage the store while we're out."

"Yeah, don't worry about me," the former demon called after the rapidly exiting group. "I'll just be here..." the door slammed, and she watched the threesome rush past the front windows. "Working…" she frowned, "…like always."

Faith leaned her shoulder into a thick, heavy door. She grit her teeth and pushed the obtrusive obstacle slightly, making enough room for her to wiggle through the slight opening. The dark-haired girl did a quick scan of the room, sucking in her breath when she inspected the rubble that had once been a super-secret government initiative.

The Initiative was crushed. Nothing in the grey, concrete rubble beneath the abandoned Sunnydale fraternity house suggested that a military operation had once occupied its dilapidated halls. It was obvious that the government had quickly dismantled and removed any evidence of a former demon-holding facility.

The Boston girl clicked on the flashlight that she had had the foresight to bring along with her. Slayers might have had better sight in the darkness than the average human, but it still wasn't quite night vision. The pale yellow beam scanned the remnants of the former military hideout.

Something raced across the dangerous slayer's foot and she stifled a girlish scream. She twisted her wrist and flicked the illuminating beam toward the ground just in time to see a thick, pink tail and grey furry hind-legs scurry under a pile of broken concrete.

Faith shuddered. Demons she could handle. But Rodents Of Unusual Size were a horse of a different color.

The Boston girl continued to carefully traverse through the complex maze of underground hallways. She faintly recognized the areas as she came to them. The hospital infirmary. The cafeteria. The demon-holding cells. The rooms all still existed, but beyond a random file carelessly discarded on the floor, the underground building was startlingly empty.

The sound of concrete shifting startled the girl as she had become accustomed to the quiet of the underground facility. It sounded as though a pile of rocks had been scattered across the solid floor. Faith jerked her hand, moving the flashlight in the direction from where she heard the sound.

"Who's there?" she called out. Her raspy voice echoed into the darkness.

The formerly rogue slayer continued shifting the pale beam of light and stopped when the flashlight came upon a pair of dark military boots standing still in the rubble. She trailed the flashlight up, towards the ceiling, and took in the dark pants, belt, and tank top of a strong, female form. The dark brown pupils turned to small pinpoints when Faith's flashlight beam stopped at the stranger's face.

"Holy fuck," the Boston girl breathed in wonder when her eyes drank in the mirror image standing before her. "That's wicked messed up."

TBC


	25. Chapter 24

"Lilith," the blonde scientist beamed warmly when the metal door of the secret lab hesitantly swung open. "Good. You're back. And I see you found that information for me."

The slayer-hybrid looked momentarily confused and looked down at the manila envelope in her hand. She quickly recovered, however, and stuck her hand out toward the military scientist who greedily snatched up the record.

"I was worried that those government idiots might have destroyed all of my findings from the other slayer," Walsh said in a tight voice. She lay the contents of the envelope down on her desk and spread the file out for investigation.

The blonde scientist looked over at the bound California slayer and smiled wickedly. "Because then, all of this," she motioned with her hands at the empty glass vials which had formerly contained the purple compound, "would have been for naught."

An amused smile crossed the small woman's face. "Although putting you through this torture would have been rewarding in and of itself. I _do _so enjoy seeing you suffer, Miss Summers. Such a stubborn thorn in my side you've been."

Buffy's body went rigid as she once again struggled to free herself. The leather bindings felt slightly looser from her constant wiggling, but she was still no closer to being able to escape than before. "You're gonna pay for this Walsh," she seethed with fire in her eyes.

Never had the Chosen One wanted to punish another human so much. Not since Principal Snyder, at least.

The former Initiative employee waved a dismissive hand at the Californian as her eyes continued to scour the loose pieces of paper. "Yes, yes, she muttered. "All the more reason to kill you soon."

The sound of shattering glass startled both of the blonde women. Lilith had inadvertently knocked over an empty mason jar and the glass shards lay on the worn linoleum floor. Walsh gave her creation a stern look. "Lilith." The machine-slayer's head jerked towards her maker. "Stop standing there, gawking," she curtly ordered. "Go sit down or something; you're distracting me."

The blonde slayer could have sworn she saw defiance flash through Lilith's eerily familiar eyes, but the creature obediently sat down in the corner chair without a word.

The room was filled with a relative silence. The only sounds were the fluttering of paper work and the annoying hum of the overhead fluorescent lights. Buffy couldn't handle the quiet any longer.

"Why don't you just get it over with?" the Chosen One stated through clenched teeth. She flexed her forearms and strained against the leather strips that bound her wrists to the uncomfortable cot. "The purple kool-aid is gone," she remarked sharply, "so what else do you have to wait for?" Maybe if she could goad the military scientist into action, she would have a better chance at escaping.

Maggie Walsh wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her white lab coat. "All in good time, Miss Summers. But for now, I have a class to teach," she mumbled almost bitterly. She flicked her eyes over to the seated Lilith.

"Lilith," she cooed. "Come here, darling."

The hybrid creature stood up stiffly and walked the few steps over to the smaller blonde woman.

"Mother has to leave for a little while," the scientist stated as if talking to a child. She took her creature's hand and looked momentarily concerned. Whatever was bothering her, however, quickly passed. "I want you to be a good girl and watch the blonde girl for Mother. You can do that for me, right?"

The hybrid's face showed no emotion, but she nodded once.

"That's my good girl," Walsh stood on her tiptoes to kiss Lilith's forehead maternally. "Now I won't be long," she stated as she gathered her papers and a leather messenger bag. She patted the hybrid slayer's hand and turned toward the exit.

"And I promise we'll start to make a new playmate for you when I get back."

With only one flashlight between the three of them, Giles, Willow, and Tara formed a small train and slowly made their way through the darkened halls of the former Initiative. The Englishman shone the flashlight ahead of the group and guided the two closely creeping Wiccas over piles of broken concrete.

"Careful," Giles whispered, as they maneuvered around a giant chasm in the earth.

"Looks a little different down here," Willow observed in a hushed tone. "More…uhm…broken."

"Sh-should we call out for Faith?" Tara suggested as she clung close to her girlfriend's back.

"We can't be sure we're the only ones down here," Giles reminded the two. "Some of the formerly captured demons may have decided to make this place their new home."

"Remind me again why we didn't bring any weapons?" the redhead squeaked.

"I _did _bring weapons," the former librarian chuckled as they continued to slowly shuffle along. "I've got you two."

Willow groaned quietly. That wasn't quite the kind of assurance she wanted to hear.

"Oh!" Tara called out as she awkwardly stumbled to the concrete floor. Giles and Willow immediately stopped and turned around.

"Baby," Willow cried, detaching herself from the former librarian. "Are you alright?" She bent down near her fallen girlfriend.

Tara rubbed at her sore knees. "Yeah…just me and my clumsy self again," she murmured lowly.

"What did you trip over?" the redhead asked, kneeling near her girlfriend. "Giles, shine the light over here." Willow squinted her eyes when the former Watcher shone the beam of light in her direction.

"Is that a foot?" Tara called out. "A foot attached to a leg. Attached to a…oh my Goddess."

Willow snapped her fingers."_Accendo!_" she yelled. The room was immediately filled with a bright green light, revealing a naked woman sitting on the floor. Her back was propped against a wall, and her head was slumped forward as if she was unconscious.

Giles looked cross as he turned off his flashlight. "You could have done that from the start, you know," he mumbled, slipping the flashlight into his back pocket.

The redhead blushed. "Sorry, Giles. I didn't want to show off."

"Guys." Tara's voice was uncharacteristically impatient.

"Oh, right."

Willow reached tentatively toward the nude girl. The woman's skin felt unnaturally cool under the witch's fingers. There were no telling marks on her form beyond a blackish singe mark splayed across her breastplate. The young Wicca held her breath and moved her fingers under the unconscious woman's chin. She tilted the lolling head backward.

All three gasped when they recognized the woman's face. Faith. Her dark chocolate eyes stared blankly ahead.

"Oh my Goddess," Willow murmured. The redheaded witch touched two fingers to the Boston girl's neck, searching for a pulse.

Finally, the talented Wicca dropped her hand to her side and her shoulders slumped forward. "She's…she's dead."

Buffy watched the heavy metal door close as Maggie Walsh exited the room. The blonde flashed her eyes toward the still seated hybrid slayer. Lilith was watching the door close as well.

"Lilith," the blonde slayer hissed. "Lilith, come over here."

The creature stood up from her seat and obediently ambled toward the Californian slayer. Maybe Lilith wasn't discriminatory over whom she obeyed. Maybe Buffy could convince the bionic slayer to help her escape from this room.

Buffy looked into the dark chocolate eyes of the woman hovering above her. "You don't have to listen to her," the slayer said. "You don't have to be her slave, Lilith. I need you to help me get out of here," she implored, "and you could escape, too. We could help each other."

A small smirk came across the creature's pouting lips, but she remained silent. Her eyes languidly swept over the bound slayer's form. The look in the hybrid's eyes made the Chosen One involuntarily shudder. Lilith's likeness to Faith was uncanny, and the almost predatory way in which the brunette now looked at the vulnerable woman created an unexpected reaction within Buffy's body. "Lilith…" she murmured.

The dark-haired being laid her hands on Buffy's body. Her touch was warm and gentle, surprising the Californian. She hadn't expected this flesh and metal creation to feel so human. The warm hands traveled from Buffy's torso, to her wrists, her slightly calloused fingertips running hot trails down the blonde slayer's smooth forearms.

It was all too hard for Buffy. The likeness was uncanny and the combination of Lilith's probing eyes and hands, and the intensity of the slayer connection, made the blonde woman's head woozy.

The feather-light touch of Lilith's fingers rested when the droid reached Buffy's wrists. But instead of lingering there, those same fingers began to unfasten the tight leather straps that bound the golden-haired slayer's arms. "That's it, Lilith," the blonde gasped. The dark girl's help had been completely unexpected.

"Guess again, Princess."

Buffy's hazel-green eyes flipped open, wider than usual. "Faith?" she exclaimed.

The dark-haired girl snickered. "The one and only," she grinned a dimpled smile. "Or I suppose there's kinda two of us now, huh?"

"Oh my god, Faith!" As soon as the Boston girl had removed the bindings from her wrists and chest, Buffy sat up abruptly, and wrapped the formerly rogue woman in a tight embrace.

"Not a machine," the brunette gasped after a minute of the Californian's tight embrace. "Need. To. Breathe."

Buffy immediately released the younger woman. "Sorry!" she exclaimed, looking mildly flustered. "But how did you…I thought you were…"

The Boston girl gave the blonde a grim smile. Her hands busied themselves with freeing the blonde from the straps at her ankles. "I'll explain everything later, B," Faith promised. "But right now, I gotta get us outta here before the Wicked Witch comes back."

Buffy hopped down from the hospital table.

"Are you okay to walk?" the brunette woman asked with concern in her eyes.

The Californian bounced slightly on her legs, flexing her knees. "My legs feel a little tight, but I should be okay."

The dark-haired slayer smirked. "You're tight alright," she quipped with a twinkle in her eyes.

Buffy laughed, momentarily forgetting that they needed to escape this room. "Only you would say that at a time like this."

Faith pushed the heavy metal door open with a noisy shriek. "Let's go, B," the brunette urged again. "Your mom's worried about ya."

The elder slayer hesitated in the threshold of the makeshift laboratory. "But what about Walsh?" she asked. "We can't just let her get away with these tests. Faith, she's only going to come after us again," the blonde pointed out emphatically. "We need to stop her. _I _need to stop her."

Faith shook her head violently. "B, there's no way I'm gonna let you kill someone," she insisted, her lips forming a tight, resolved line. "I've got enough blood on my hands for the both of us."

Buffy stuck out her bottom lip. "Well, I'm not going to let _you_ kill her, either," she stated stubbornly.

"Wasn't gonna kill her, Sunshine. I meant turning her in to the _Police_," the dark slayer chuckled. "We've got her at least on a charge of Kidnapping. Let's motorvate, okay?" the brunette pressed. She looked anxiously at the open door. "Who knows when that crazy woman is gonna show up again."

Buffy's face looked lost in thought as stared at her sister-Slayer for a moment. "I was so worried Walsh had hurt you," she whispered in a suddenly raspy voice. She swallowed hard. "And it was all my fault, too. When I saw that Lilith thing I thought –," The blonde woman's voice broke off with emotion and she cast her eyes away from the younger slayer.

"I know, baby," Faith murmured. She quickly narrowed the distance between herself and the smaller woman and gathered the svelte slayer in her arms. Faith kissed the top of the blonde's head and inhaled deeply. "But everything's okay now," she whispered into the elder slayer's hair. "Walsh ain't gonna hurt anyone anymore."

The California slayer looked up at the brunette woman under heavily lidded eyes. Her arms slipped up the sides of the Boston woman's sides and she tangled her fingers in the taller slayer's loose curls. Faith's eyes looked instantly darker and she slowly wet her full, bottom lip with the tip of her pink tongue.

Buffy stood slightly on her tiptoes to reach the taller woman's full lips. She brushed her wet lips against the Boston slayer's slightly parted mouth. The brunette sighed quietly and her arms wrapped tight around her smaller counterpart's lithe waist.

Kissing had never felt like this before. Although the blonde woman was a novice when it came to more lusty rituals, she was sure she had kissed enough to be considered educated and well-informed in that department. The way that Faith's mouth expertly moved over her own panting mouth, however, made her forget about any previous partners. There was only this. There was only Faith.

"I'd never let anything bad happen to ya, B," the Boston girl murmured as she moved her mouth down the blonde's neck.

The California slayer sighed quietly. Her small hands traveled to the dark woman's slender waist and her fingers slipped under the cotton material of the taller slayer's dark tank top. Faith's flesh felt taunt, yet soft beneath her fingertips.

The brunette moved her mouth back to the smaller slayer's lips. "I want you so badly," she mumbled against the shorter woman's warm mouth.

"And I want you to have me," Buffy responded breathlessly.

The Boston girl crushed her mouth harder against the svelte blonde's pouting lips, her body suddenly hungry to be pressed tight against her sister-Slayer's naked skin. Both slayers knew that Maggie Walsh could return at any moment, but escaping was no longer a priority.

But their moment could only last for so long, however. Timing had never been on their side.

"Buffy?"

The blonde slayer groaned into her savior's mouth. "_Not this again,_" she silently complained.

The Chosen One reluctantly pulled away from the brunette woman's addictive lips and turned toward the sound of the familiar, feminine voice. Willow, Tara, and Giles all stood just within the ajar door. All three had a similar look of surprise and shock on their faces.

"Oh, uh. Hey guys," Buffy blushed.

She looked over at Faith. The Boston girl's form looked suddenly tired and dejected, rather than pleased to see Buffy's friends. Her broad, yet feminine shoulders were slightly slumped forward in defeat as if she immediately expected Buffy would come up with yet another excuse why they had been caught in such a compromising position.

"We-we did a locator spell and tracked you here," Tara explained, her eyes slightly bulging as she looked back and forth between the two slayers. "We thought you were in trouble and that Faith was, erm, dead."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her slayer lover. "They thought you were dead?" she said in a stern tone.

The dark girl ducked her head and kicked idly. "I said I'd tell you about it later," she mumbled.

The Californian reached over and grasped the younger slayer's hand in her own. Faith stood stunned, staring down at their enjoyed hands and then flicked her eyes back up at the smaller slayer. Buffy rewarded her with a warm, beaming smile.

"No more secrets," the Chosen One whispered.

The elder slayer gave her partner's hand a tight squeeze of reassurance. The golden-haired slayer cleared her throat and looked back toward her confused and puzzled friends.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are here," Buffy began. "Because there's something I've been meaning to tell you all…"

TBC


	26. Chapter 25

"I don't know why everyone insisted I go to the hospital," the blonde slayer huffed as she unlocked the front door of the Revello Drive home.

Faith waited patiently for the Chosen One to open the door and followed in after her. She noisily removed her heavy boots and tossed them on the Welcome mat. "Uh, cause some evil bitch pumped you full of purple goo?" she deadpanned.

Buffy shrugged out of the dark-slayer's leather jacket and handed it back to the Boston girl with a shy smile of gratitude. The evening had turned surprisingly brisk and the brunette had insisted the small slayer wear her jacket on the walk from the hospital to her mother's house. "She did the same thing to you too though," the golden-haired slayer stubbornly pointed out.

Faith gave her partner an easy grin and hung the jacket up on the coat hooks in the Summers' front foyer. "Yeah, but I've always been tougher than you, sweet cheeks."

The blonde slayer looked cross at her sister-Slayer. "Is that so?" she stated, narrowing her hazel-green eyes.

"Uh huh," the Boston girl nodded with a smug smirk.

She took a step closer to the blonde woman. Her smirk widened into a dimpled grin when the smaller slayer didn't back up or slap her arms away when they carefully slipped around her lithe waist. The brunette flicked her eyes around the front of the Summers residence, making sure neither Buffy's mom nor her sister were around. She pulled the blonde closer and looked into the hazel-green eyes staring back.

Their timing had been a little off lately, constantly getting interrupted just when they were about to be intimate, but there was a fire smoldering beneath the surface that wasn't going to extinguish any time soon. And now that the golden-haired slayer had told her closest friends and Watcher about them, they only had to worry about the elder slayer's family.

When Buffy had confidently grasped the Boston woman's hand in the underground laboratory, Faith hadn't known what to expect. But she had certainly not anticipated the blonde girl revealing to Willow, Tara, and Giles that they were romantically involved.

As Faith gazed into her lover's expressive eyes, she recalled the blonde's words: _"This may or may not come as a shock to you guys," _the Chosen One had started,_ "but Faith and I…we care for each other. I know we've fought – a lot – in our past,_" she admitted with a slight cringe,_ "but everything that's happened these past few months has brought us closer together. I love you all like a family, and I want you to be happy for us."_

Giles had looked exceedingly uncomfortable from his slayer's admission, although she had been kind enough not to go into graphic detail. He had swiftly removed the glasses from their perch on his nose, and had scrubbed the lenses furiously until he managed a sputtered word of congratulation.

Tara's immediate reaction was to give each slayer a tight hug. The blonde witch had eyeballed her girlfriend who had momentarily remained in the background. But finally, Willow too had stepped forward to congratulate the two slayers – Buffy with a hug and Faith with a crisp handshake.

Small hands at her hips shook the brunette from her recent memories. Buffy raised an eyebrow at Faith and pursed her lips. She shifted her eyes toward the staircase and licked her bottom lip. Her voice became uncharacteristically husky: "Care to take this upstairs?"

Faith opened her mouth to give her affirmative reply, but she was interrupted before she could voice even a single syllable.

"Buffy?" a voice from the back of the house called out. "Is that you?"

Both slayers turned quickly toward the back of the house where Joyce Summers was making her way toward the front door. Faith immediately released her hold on the smaller slayer's waist and subtly moved backwards away from her body. The Californian stuck out her bottom lip in a well-practiced pout.

_When were they going to get a break?_

Buffy's mother's face was slightly dusted with patches of flour and a dirty apron was wrapped around her waist. In her hands were a wooden spoon and a mixing bowl. She put the spoon in the ceramic bowl and pushed back her wild curls with her free hand, leaving a smudge of batter on her forehead.

"Mom?" Buffy questioned, observing her mother's frazzled appearance. "What are you doing back there? Starting your own Dunkin' Donuts?"

The eldest Summers woman looked momentarily confused, but then shook her head. "No," she remarked, "Dawn has to bring in treats to school tomorrow, and I totally forgot about it." She wiped at her forehead again and grimaced when she realized batter was now in her hair as well. "What are you two girls up to?"

The two slayers exchanged a wordless glance.

"We were just, uh," Buffy stammered, suddenly nervous, "going upstairs."

The bowl in the Buffy's mother's hands nearly dropped to the floor. Joyce looked suddenly flustered as well, and her eyes flickered down to her hands instead of the two slayers. "Oh, well, ahm…." She paused and cleared the frog from her throat. "Try to keep it down, okay?" Her voice slightly cracked. "Your sister is sleeping."

Buffy's face went bright red, nearly the same blush that had turned her mother's visage crimson as well. "Okay, Mom. We'll try," she muttered under her breath. She grabbed her lover's hand and dragged the brunette up the stairs that led to her bedroom.

The brunette poked the smaller woman when Mrs. Summers was out of earshot. "Is it just me," Faith mumbled to the blonde slayer as they climbed up the staircase together, "or does your mom know about us?"

The Californian nodded and grimaced. "She knows," she admitted. "I don't know _how _she knows. But mothers are apparently clairvoyant like that."

The slayers made their way up to the second floor. Faith paused just outside of Buffy's bedroom door. "And she's cool with it?" she asked, her voice and face full of concern.

The golden-haired slayer pulled on the taller girl's arm, dragging her into the bedroom. "Seems to be," she said with a shrug as she closed the door behind them.

"Maybe I shouldn't spend the night tonight," the brunette stated anxiously as she stood in the center of the Chosen One's bedroom.

Buffy's eyes went wide with alarm. "Why?" she demanded, her face stricken.

"Just, I ah," the Boston girl bumbled, "don't want your mom gettin' the wrong idea is all."

The blonde folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. "And what wrong idea would she be getting?"

Faith tossed her arms in the air. "That we're up here practicin' makin' babies?" she hissed quietly.

"Last time I checked, Fai," Buffy snickered lowly, "you didn't have the right equipment for that."

"You know what I mean," the Boston girl grunted, not letting Buffy's attempt at humor distract her. "I don't want your mom thinkin' I'm like the horny boyfriend who's corrupting her little angel."

Buffy's half-smile slowly spread across her face, and her hazel-green eyes twinkled mischievously. "How about _I _do the corrupting then?"

Faith swallowed hard and took a step backwards.

"Annoying students and all their idiot questions," Maggie Walsh mumbled bitterly to herself as she exited the UC-Sunnydale campus grounds. The sun had set many hours ago, and the blonde woman was annoyed that it had taken so long for her workday to finally end. The college professor had been tied up with unexpected committee meetings in addition to students actually showing up to her office hours. Now she hastily made her way back to Lilith and her makeshift laboratory.

Her chunky heels clicked on the cement sidewalk and she grasped tightly to her leather messenger bag. Soon she would no longer need this paltry employment. Soon she would be independently wealthy, once she sold her first prototype to the highest bidder. The woman was anxious to return to her underground laboratory, hidden beneath the UC-Sunnydale campus grounds.

Tonight she would begin the cloning process on the blonde slayer.

Having a creation who looked like the brunette slayer had been rewarding, but it wouldn't be able to compare to having a minion with the face and form of Buffy Summers. The Original Slayer had been nothing but a bothersome pest. First, Riley's attachment to the blonde girl, and then her meddling with Faith Lehane and the Initiative's cloning project. But it would all be over soon for Buffy Summers.

Maggie Walsh deftly made her way through a hidden door and down a narrow set of stairs toward her secret facility. The blonde scientist hastily opened the heavy metal door to the lab.

"Lilith!" she chirped happily, pushing through the front entrance. "Mother's home!"

Maggie Walsh paused just inside the laboratory. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, immediately sensing that something was wrong. Lilith's chair was empty. And so was the hospital bed where Buffy Summers had been held captive. Otherwise, the room was just as she had left it.

The former military scientist felt the blood in her veins bubble with rage. Where had that annoying slayer gone? And where had she taken Lilith?

Maggie Walsh reached into her leather satchel and pulled out the black, metal weapon. She stared manically at the military issue handgun.

"I've had enough of that girl. Tonight," she whispered in a raspy voice, "I end Buffy Summers."

Faith stared anxiously as the blonde slayer's hands went to the bottom hem of her light tank top. Effortlessly, Buffy pulled the garment up her taunt stomach, past her breasts, and over her head. She dropped the cotton top on the carpeted floor and gave the taller slayer a shy smile.

The Californian reached up to the back of her head, her fingers grasping the rubber band. She pulled the band free from her golden-locks and shook the ponytail out of her hair. Her blonde strands fell softly around her face, touching the tips of her lightly bronzed shoulders.

The Boston-born slayer unconsciously wet her full lips. "You're so beautiful," she murmured to the angel standing before her.

"You're just saying that 'cause you wanna get laid," the Californian lightly joked, slightly flustered by the taller woman's compliment.

Buffy had never truly thought of herself as 'beautiful.' Cute maybe, but never sexy or beautiful. Those were words that came to mind as she looked at her brunette lover, however. The younger slayer had always possessed an effortless and dangerous appeal.

Faith bit her bottom lip and slowly shook her head. "I've always thought you were the most perfect thing I'd ever seen, B," she admitted in a small voice.

Buffy gave her lover a lopsided grin. "I'm feeling kinda skanky from being a prisoner," she admitted quietly. "Do you, uh, want to take a shower with me?"

The dark-haired slayer felt her knees slightly give out.

Buffy grabbed a plush towel from its hanging location on the doorknob of her closet. "C'mon," she urged in a quiet voice.

Faith stood dumbstruck in the center of the room. The California slayer softly laughed and grabbed the younger woman's hot hand in her own. "Don't be getting shy on me now," she lightly joked.

"Me? Shy? Never," the brunette insisted, her voice cracking slightly on the syllables.

The Boston girl anxiously allowed Buffy to lead her down the short hallway towards the bathroom that Buffy and Dawn shared. The small blonde remained topless, only in her bra and jeans. The golden-haired woman pulled Faith into the bathroom and silently shut the door behind them. She gave the brunette girl a gentle shove towards the bathtub.

"Get the water the temperature you want it," the Chosen One instructed as she unsnapped the front button on her form-fitting jeans.

The brunette licked her lips, watching the smaller slayer unzip her jeans and start to wiggle them down her boyishly narrow hips.

"Faith," Buffy laughed quietly. "Not that I mind you watching me undress, but it's gonna be hard to shower without some water," she taunted the stunned girl.

"Oh uh, yeah," the Boston-born slayer mumbled, quickly averting her eyes away from the quickly disrobing blonde to focus on the bathroom faucet instead.

Buffy pulled her jeans off her slender legs and carefully folded them, placing the garment on the top of the toilet tank. Faith turned on the Hot and Cold faucets and felt the rushing water, manipulating the dials to find the perfect temperature. When she was satisfied, she pulled the handle and turned the shower function on.

The Boston woman glanced back at her lover just in time to see Buffy reach behind her back and unsnap her light pink bra. "Don't forget your own clothes too, Fai," the blonde purred lowly as she shrugged out of the bra straps, allowing the lacy garment to tumble down her front and onto the floor. "You're starting to look a little overdressed."

Faith momentarily forgot about the running water and her own clothes. She stood up from the side of the bathtub and stalked toward the Chosen One. Buffy didn't retreat, however, but instead gave her dark lover a challenging grin.

The Boston girl placed her hands on the elder woman's naked hipbones. The golden-haired slayer wore only white bikini briefs that hugged her slight curves and accentuated her bronzed skin. On anyone else they might look modest or mundane, but the brunette slayer had never seen anything sexier. Because they were on Buffy.

As if in a trance, the dark-haired slayer slid her hands across the elder woman's jutting hips, feeling the chiseled bones slice along the palms of her hands. Her fingers roamed to the blonde's backside, slipping beneath the cotton underwear so she could palm the Californian's pert backside, cupping the small, rounded mounds in her hands. The elder slayer's skin was soft and warm, yet wherever Faith touched, she created a series of goosebumps on the smaller woman.

Faith's fingers fluttered along the Chosen One's crack, her fingertips briefly brushing along the blonde's pouting lips from behind. Buffy quietly sighed. She pressed her forehead against the taller woman's chest, and bit her bottom lip so as to not alert her mother or sister that she and Faith were in the bathroom together.

Wordlessly, Faith spun the smaller woman around and pressed her chest into the shorter woman's back. Her hands glided down Buffy's naked sides, across her hipbones, and came together at the apex of the elder slayer's panty-covered sex.

Buffy's quiet, yet labored breath hitched in her throat when the Boston girl slid a single finger between her pussy lips, seeking out her small clit. The material of her cotton underwear dipped between her pouting lips and rubbed along the front of her sensitive bud.

Buffy arched her back, and slightly craned her neck and turned her head, so she could kiss the woman behind her. Their lips met in a soft, hesitant embrace, their pink tongues gently tangoing and brushing against each other. With her free hand, Faith cupped one of Buffy's naked breasts, palming its slight weight and flicking the hardening nipple with the tips of her fingers.

The Californian quietly groaned into her lover's mouth. Faith ended the lip-lock, but only to place open-mouthed kisses at the nape of Buffy's neck. Her lips were warm, but wet against the elder slayer's slightly salty skin.

Faith moved the crotch of the smaller woman's underwear to one side and slid her finger the length of Buffy's already wet slit. Her single digit slowly seesawed back and forth just within the Californian's outer lips.

"Gonna get a shower of another kind if you keep that up," the blonde breathed between her small gasps of appreciation.

Faith licked along the outside of Buffy's ear. "What makes you think I'd mind?" she stated in a gravelly voice.

With all her willpower, Buffy pulled herself away from the dangerous brunette. She placed her palms on the taller woman's upper chest and leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss. "New plan," she mumbled into her lover's mouth. "You go back to my room."

The Boston girl made a small noise of protest, before the smaller slayer silenced her with another heated kiss.

"Fai," the elder woman breathed, pulling away from the taller girl's lips. She batted her heavy eyelashes. "I _really _need a shower," she insisted. "And if you stay in here, I have a feeling we're gonna use up all the hot water before we even get wet."

Faith smirked and opened her mouth again, but found the golden-haired slayer's finger pressed against her lips. "Don't," the blonde muttered, still pressing her nearly naked form against the taller woman. "It's too easy a set-up."

The brunette girl sighed. "Fine, B," she grunted, clearly disappointed.

Buffy stood slightly on her tiptoes and stuck out her lower lip. "Aww, baby," she cooed, leaning into her dark lover. "You wanted to stay and shower with me?"

Faith gave the shorter woman an incredulous look. "Uh, I believe the expression is 'duh,'" she deadpanned.

"I'll be quick," the blonde promised with a lop-sided grin.

The dangerous brunette pulled the other woman closer to her once again. "So can I," she growled into her ear.

Buffy pulled away, her face slightly flushed. She bit her bottom lip. "But I don't want it quick," she admitted shyly.

The Boston girl's leer widened into a warm, genuine grin. "All right, Princess," she conceded. "But hurry back to your room. I'm about ready to pop."

The mad scientist rushed up the stairwell of the underground laboratory, clutching tightly to the military issue gun. She had been properly trained years ago as part of her military training, but in recent years had had no use for hand-to-hand combat. But she realized with a smug grin that she only needed to be a few feet from the blonde slayer to carry out her plan. Even she wouldn't be able to miss from that range.

Maggie Walsh tromped over to her vehicle and hastily started the engine.

The blonde slayer was predictable, the military woman mused as she sped down the nearly deserted Sunnydale streets. It was as if she never expected 'The Bad Guys' to track down her home. The Chosen One, no doubt, felt a false sense of security always returning to the Revello Drive residence after the battle had been won. And although Maggie Walsh had never been to the Summers' residence, it didn't take a computer hacker to look up her permanent mailing address in the UC-Sunnydale student directory.

The Revello Drive home was just a short drive from campus, and the blonde scientist found herself at the Summers' residence in hardly any time. Walsh pulled her dark SUV to a stop in front of the nondescript California home. She double-checked the address on the front of the house one last time, and opened the glove box in her vehicle. Inside, hidden beneath fast-food napkins, a state map, and her government ID was the gun.

She had never killed anyone before. She had certainly had a hand in the death of many non-humans in the past few months, but she had justified that it was for the good of Science. For the good of Mankind. Killing Buffy Summers, however, would be for the good of Herself.

Under the cover of darkness, Professor Walsh gripped the gun and exited the vehicle.

TBC


	27. Chapter 26

_So high tonight _

_And I don't feel like coming down_

I can lie to you all my days But you're the one, you're the oneAnd I'm a fool for waiting so long to let you know

_Suggested Listening: "Come Around" – Rosi Golan_

The Boston girl looked up when she heard the soft click of Buffy's bedroom door opening. She smiled when she saw the blonde girl tiptoe into the room and silently shut the door behind her once again. Buffy's golden locks lay close to her head, damp from the shower, and she wore a large, fluffy towel wrapped around her slender body.

"All squeaky clean," the elder slayer smiled shyly.

Faith stood up from the blonde's double bed and grinned. "Good," she breathed. "Let's get dirty then."

The Boston girl strode confidently over to the smaller slayer. After being abruptly shutdown in the bathroom, she wasn't about to waste time and let the elder girl change her mind again. Faith pulled the shorter girl into her. Buffy released a shaky breath when her ribs jostled against her solid lover's frame.

Allowing her darker partner to take the lead, the blonde slayer didn't protest when Faith's hands made their way to the top of her towel. The Boston slayer slowly peeled the cotton wrap away as though she were opening a Christmas present. A very delicious, naked Christmas present.

The brunette slayer licked her full lips as she gazed upon the smaller woman's lithe, nude, and damp form. Small droplets of water still remained on her bronzed skin, leftovers from her hasty shower. Her pale-pink nipples were hard, the result of her bedroom's room temperature in comparison to the steamy shower. Goosebumps rose on her flesh.

The Boston girl dropped the damp towel onto the ground. She stroked her fingers up along the shorter woman's neck, her fingertips gliding easily through the elder slayer's just-washed hair. Buffy smelled sweet, like her flowery shampoo and body wash. The dark-haired slayer filled her nostrils with the shorter woman's scent.

"Chilly, B?" Faith leered, not oblivious to the Californian's slight embarrassment to be totally naked.

Buffy wordlessly nodded. Faith ran her hands roughly over the lithe slayer's naked body. Her hands rapidly moved up and down the blonde's softly toned arms to slough off the excess water and heat up Buffy's flesh. The dark woman shuddered slightly, unable to contain her emotions as her fingers wandered freely over the expanse of Buffy's flesh. There was so much delicious skin; she didn't know where to start.

Faith touched her fingers to Buffy's waist, reveling at the sensation of her lover's pliable flesh between her hands. She cocked her head to one side and gently captured the smaller woman's lips with her own. Buffy's hands left her own sides, sliding up the front of the darker slayer's tank top. Her small palms rushed over the soft swell of the Boston woman's breasts up to her neck, tangling her fingers in the younger woman's chaotic tresses.

The two became lost in soft touches and needy kisses before the Californian pulled her face back, nearly breathless. Her lips felt slightly swollen.

"Still cold, babe?" the Boston girl softly grinned as she gazed upon her lover's beautiful face.

Buffy shook her head. "Getting warmer," she coyly admitted. The Californian dropped her hands from Faith's neck and entwined their fingers. "You're way overdressed, though," she commented to the taller woman as she gently tugged her toward the bed.

Faith allowed herself to be led toward the double mattress, her eyes flicking to every exposed inch of her lover's form. She wanted to memorize every dip and curve and swell of Buffy's body like a cartographer creating a detailed map.

Buffy slid backwards onto the top comforter, crawling like a crab back towards the head of the mattress. Faith leered confidently at her naked lover and she kneeled down at the foot of the bed, still fully clothed. Her bravado was shaken, however, when the elder slayer's thighs fell apart, opening herself fully to her lover.

"Shit, B," the Boston slayer grunted and she hastily pulled her tank top and bra off, freeing her ample breasts.

The blonde slayer smiled knowingly and rolled her hips slightly. "Hurry, Fai," she breathed. "I need to feel your skin against mine."

Not needing to be asked twice, the Boston girl made quick work of the rest of her clothes. She yanked off her socks and the dark army pants that she had confiscated earlier from Lilith and discarded them onto the floor. Faith, now fully naked herself, crept closer to her waiting lover until her knees bumped into the insides of Buffy's splayed thighs.

Positioned between Buffy's open thighs, Faith ran the tips of her fingers down the center of Buffy's body. Her warm digits blazed hot trails from the blonde's neck, between her modest breasts, and down to the apex of the golden slayer's sex. The Californian arched her back off of the bed, curving her abdomen towards the ceiling to meet her lover's soft, yet confident touch.

The Boston woman's fingers continued to travel further south, lightly brushing against the blonde slayer's naked pussy. Faith stopped momentarily to rub the elder woman's clit in small circles before leaving once again to rake her closely trimmed fingernails along the sensitive flesh of Buffy's inner thighs.

The brunette slayer dragged her hand away from the elder girl and brought her hand up to her mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste the early traces of Buffy's arousal.

"Oh God, Faith," the small slayer moaned softly, aware that her mother and sister were both at home. "Touch me, please just touch me."

The dark-haired woman smiled mischievously at her pained lover. She gently stroked her fingertips along the insides of Buffy's tensed thighs. "But I _am _touching you, B," she grinned.

Buffy clutched at the quilt beneath her, balling the material up in her fists. "Please," she whimpered desperately. "You know where I need to be touched."

Unable to resist her lover's pleading hazel-green eyes, or the slight quivering of her lower lip, the Boston girl slid her hands back up Buffy's trembling thighs. With her thumbs, she parted the Californian's swollen lips, exposing her clit. Faith dipped her head and sucked on the begging nub and was rewarded with the fresh taste of the blonde's arousal.

Buffy tangled her fingers in her lover's dark waves, holding Faith's head in place with one hand as the Boston-born slayer slowly nibbled and licked along her folds and crevices. Small moans and gasps of appreciation escaped the golden-haired slayer's parted lips.

Giving her lover one long lick along her seeping slit, Faith emerged with the blonde girl's juices on her chin. "I could do that all night long, baby," she grinned, wiping the elder woman's arousal from her cheeks.

"Then why don't you?" her blonde partner challenged, her eyes narrowing slightly with annoyance that the Boston girl stopped so abruptly. Maybe this was payback from the bathroom.

"Cause I've got other plans for tonight, Princess," the brunette replied, nuzzling her face along Buffy's inner thighs.

The small Californian gasped and wiggled on her bed when Faith scraped her teeth along the sensitive flesh of her inner legs. "Th-there's a game plan?" she asked between sharp breaths.

"Hell yea, B," Faith murmured lowly. "Xs and Os and all that."

The dark slayer moved closer to the headboard, positioning herself on top of the smaller woman. Faith straddled her lover, her knees on either side of Buffy's stomach. She reached between them, through her own parted legs, and her soft touch slid along the blonde's shaved sex. The brunette curled her fingers and rubbed along the outside of her lover's lips.

The Californian's arousal felt light and wet on Faith's fingertips. "God, it's so good with you," the Boston woman growled into her lover's ear.

Buffy moaned at the touch and the words, arching her back so her naked breasts were now pressed fully into the brunette's chest. A small, shaky breath escaped Faith's lips at the sensation of the Californian's small, hard nipples scraping against her own breasts.

Faith nuzzled her nose along the blonde's elongated neck from the crook up to the bottom of her ear lobe. She placed small, open-mouthed kisses near her partner's ear. The Chosen One whimpered quietly. Faith's mouth was full of need and promises as she kissed and licked along Buffy's jaw line.

The Boston girl cupped the elder slayer's sex in her hand and rubbed her pussy in slow, lazy circles. Buffy's breath quickened in her lungs and she rolled her hips, thrusting her sex into her lover's hand to create more friction.

"Fuck, Faith," the blonde panted as she continued to grind her pussy into the Boston woman's palm.

The Boston woman rubbed the smaller slayer's sensitive clit in circles. Buffy felt her insides clutch tightly as if all her internal organs were seizing together. Pins and needles shot through her lithe limbs when the brunette pressed against her clit harder.

"Yes, Fai," the blonde gasped into the evening air. "Right there."

Without warning, the Boston girl pulled her hand away from her lover. She sat back slightly, no longer straddling the Californian. The tip of Faith's tongue lazy swabbed along her full, lower lip, and she gazed hungrily at the naked blonde.

"Wh-Why did you stop?" Buffy questioned in a strained voice. The 'Slow is Good' mantra had been just fine for their first time, but the blonde wasn't in the mood for Faith's games tonight.

The dark-haired slayer continued to rake her eyes slowly over the Chosen One's lithe form. "Touch yourself for me, B," she rasped in a thick voice. "Show me what you like."

Buffy sat up in bed, bringing one arm across her naked breasts and tilting her hips so her sex was momentarily hidden from view from the Boston girl. "What?" Her voice came out slightly shrill and alarmed.

Faith gave the elder woman a lopsided grin and sat back slightly on her haunches. "Don't play coy with me, Blondie. I know you've gotta double-click your mouse once in a while."

The blonde woman's face flushed a light pink. "B-but I don't do things like that," she insisted in a quiet voice.

"Yeah. Right." The dark-haired slayer shifted on the bed as if she was about to stand up and leave.

Buffy forgot her fake modesty and lashed out with the hand that had been covering her bare breasts to catch the younger woman by the crook of her arm. "Wait. Don't go," the Chosen One pled.

The Boston girl raised a carefully sculpted eyebrow. "You gonna do it, then?" she asked in a falsely impatient tone.

"Wh-what do you want me to do?" Buffy questioned, dropping her hazel-green eyes from her lover's mischievous face.

The dark-haired girl felt instantly guilty. She hadn't wanted to force her inexperienced lover into doing something that made her uncomfortable. She also hadn't intended on it being an ultimatum.

Faith sat back down on the bed and moved closer to her hesitant lover. "Here," she murmured in a gentle tone. "I'll help." She took Buffy's hand in her own and guided it down the blonde's stomach, down to her naked cunt.

"It's easy. Just show me what you like," the dark-haired girl murmured as she slid Buffy's digits along her shaved sex. "I wanna make you feel good, Buffy, but I wanna know how you like it."

The Californian panted slightly when her warm fingertips bumped against her clit. Faith smiled at the early reaction. "You like that right there, babe?" She manipulated the blonde's slender fingers so they continued to rub against her sensitive nub.

Buffy bit down on her bottom lip and whimpered her approval.

The Boston woman released her hold on Buffy's wrist and felt a fresh wave of arousal when the elder slayer didn't stop, and instead was going solo now. Faith shifted on the bed uncomfortably, well aware that her own arousal now coated the insides of her thighs.

"Buffy," she quietly groaned, watching her beautiful lover rub her own clit, her thighs slightly parted. "Don't stop, babe," Faith encouraged. "You look so fuckin' hot."

The blonde slayer stared into her lover's dark chocolate eyes, her own hazel-green pair dilated and challenging. Buffy's hips began to slowly roll along with her fingers, her sharp hips rising off the bed slightly with each brush and bump of her clit.

Faith's eyes widened when the Californian unexpectedly plunged a finger deep into her seeping cunt. Buffy's breath hitched, a small gasp tumbling past her parted lips as she bottomed out. The Boston girl watched in awe as Buffy's finger repeatedly disappeared inside her tight sex, her digit swallowed with every penetration.

"Yeah baby," Faith grunted, knowing she wouldn't be able to remain a spectator for much longer. "Fuck yourself. Just like that. Show me how much you like it."

The Boston girl palmed one of Buffy's breasts, feeling a hard nipple in the center of her hand. The Californian's pliable flesh felt hot and slightly damp from sweat. Faith leaned forward to capture a hardened nipple between her teeth. She bit down lightly on Buffy's sensitive nub and flicked her tongue against the tip.

The Boston girl reached between Buffy's thighs and placed her hand on top of the Californian's, encouraging the blonde to quicken her pace. The golden-haired slayer grunted quietly and bent her head forward. Her hazel-green eyes clamped shut as she continued to piston her finger in and out of her clenching sex with Faith's help.

A hollow noise, originating from outside, startled the pair of lovers. Buffy's hand slid out from between her legs.

"Did you just hear a gun shot?" the blonde girl asked sitting up slightly in bed, her golden hair in disarray.

Faith pulled her lover back down fully into the sheets and grasped her tightly against her own naked torso. Their slick bodies slid easily against each other, slightly damp from sweat. "No," the brunette insisted, her voice almost frantic. "Please don't stop, B. Was just a car backfirin' or something."

Faith's warm breath tickled deliciously along the outer edge of Buffy's ear and the small slayer soon forgot about her original worry as wandering hands returned to her most intimate and sensitive places.

The focused scientist stood in the center of the empty street. With the heavy weapon grasped in one hand like her lifeline, she stared up at the moving shadows in the second floor bedroom windows. She blindly moved her fingers across the end of the weapon and unhinged the safety function.

"You're not doing what I think you're doing?" came a voice from the shadows.

Maggie Walsh spun around in the center of the paved avenue to see a peroxide-haired man in a long, black duster step out from behind a large maple tree. The man paused to toss his lit cigarette on the ground and crush it with the toe of his boot.

"Stay out of this, whoever you are," the scientist seethed, swinging the firearm wildly around in the air. "This doesn't concern you."

The man cocked his head to the side and took a step closer. The pale moonlight shone down on his handsome, marble-like features. Professor Walsh mentally noted how pale the man was for living in California.

"Might not concern me, lady. But if you're thinking of shootin' the Slayers," he noted, "then it does."

Walsh narrowed her eyes at the mysterious man with the English accent. Who was this man, and how did he know Slayers existed? Buffy Summers must be even more reckless than she had originally believed.

"She has it coming, don't you see?" the blonde woman growled. "She's interfered in my plans once too often."

The stranger chuckled lowly. "You must be talkin' about the blonde bit." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, that bird does have a habit of mussin' things up."

"So you see?" the scientist cheered. "This is the only way. This is what I have to do."

The man's mocking smile twisted into a frown. "I'm all for offin' the Slayer. But not that way," he muttered. He nodded toward the weapon in the woman's fist. "The Slayer is a warrior. No gun is worthy of millin' her down. I can't let you do it."

"If you're not with me, you're against me. I didn't want to kill anyone else," she ranted to no one in particular, "just her. But you've given me no choice." She raised the slightly weighty weapon and aimed it at the man's broad torso. "No one can stop me now."

The scientist pulled the trigger and hit her target. She staggered backwards from the kick of the semi-automatic, momentarily losing sight of the annoying stranger.

The man righted himself, clutching at his right shoulder blade. He grimaced, but continued to walk toward the startled woman.

"H-how did you…Wh-what are you?" Maggie Walsh gasped, momentarily forgetting the weapon in her hand. To her horror and amazement, the bullet seemed to hardly slow the stranger down.

"You oughta know, pet." The English-native's face twisted and morphed into a horrifying visage of ridges and bumps. "I'm disappointed," he clucked. "Thought you woulda been an expert on what I am."

The woman pointed the gun at the man again, her hand shaking, but he only laughed bitterly. "Can't kill me with that," he growled. "But I know how to kill _you_."

The blonde man grabbed the stunned scientist and snarled. Right before sinking his elongated fangs into the vulnerable flesh of her neck.

"Faith?"

"Mmmhmm?" The dark-haired woman closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the warm, sweaty form beside her.

"What ever happened to Lilith?"

The Boston girl flipped her eyes open and looked at her lover quizzically. "You mean that copy-cat version of me?"

Buffy nodded. "How did you know where I was and know to pretend to be her?"

The golden-haired slayer smiled warmly when Faith brushed a sweaty lock away from her face. The Boston girl's tenderness had been surprising; the blonde wasn't sure she would ever get used to it. But she had a feeling that being in a relationship with Faith would be anything but predictable.

"I was lookin' for you down at the Initiative and ran into her," Faith revealed. "She thought I was like her newborn sister." The dark-haired woman chuckled and shook her head slightly, remembering the excitement on the cyborg-slayer's face. "I figured she had something to do with the Initiative and wasn't like, my long-lost twin," the Boston girl continued. "And when I asked her about you, she told me exactly where you were."

"Why did everyone think you were dead?" Buffy questioned, propping herself up slightly on one elbow to better look at her lover.

Faith slipped an arm behind her head as a pillow. "Red, Tara, and Giles found her in the Initiative when they came after me," the brunette explained, staring up at the ceiling. "I had knocked her out with one of those stun guns the soldiers left behind and took her clothes. I had been plannin' on zapping that Walsh bitch with it, but then ran into robo-me."

The dark-haired woman paused to touch her lover's skin. "You may not think I'm all 'making plans girl'," she chuckled quietly, running the palms of her hands up and down the Californian's slender arms, "but I took her clothes so Walsh would think I was her. I wanted to save you without anyone gettin' hurt. But don't worry about Lilith," she stated with a small smile, "I told Willow to go get her while you were gettin' checked out at the hospital."

Buffy's hazel-green eyes clouded over with confusion. "What?"

"Yeah. I figured a brain like Red would appreciate a Faith-bot," the brunette slayer noted thoughtfully. "I mean it's not like I coulda just had her junked, B. _She looks just like me_. And I don't hate myself like that." She paused meaningfully. "Not anymore at least."

The blonde was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. "I guess that's a good idea. Maybe we _should_ keep Lilith around," she mused aloud. "I mean, as long as Willow can figure out a way to control her."

"How do you figure?"

"Well," Buffy continued, "it would be nice if we could both take a night off from patrolling once in a while," she pointed out. "We could let Lilith patrol for us or something." The blonde grinned and touched the tip of her finger playfully on the Boston slayer's nose. "And that way you can take me on dates."

Faith nodded thoughtfully. She had never really been on a 'date' before, but she was willing to try anything if it meant being close to the Californian. "Plus don't forget all your wicked threesome fantasies," the younger woman deadpanned.

The blonde swatted her dark lover. "You're a pig," she giggled.

The Boston-born slayer raised her arms in retreat. "Hey, don't blame _me _for being this hot."

"Tempting," the blonde smiled, nuzzling her nose against the Boston girl's collarbone. She inhaled deeply, immersing herself in the younger woman's scent and enjoying the feeling of Faith's arms wrapping around her naked body. "But I think I'll stick to the Original."

FIN


End file.
